


How to Ask the Question

by madeofbees



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Severus Snape Lives, meaningless sex only with feels, obvs but, pwp mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-10-05 10:44:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeofbees/pseuds/madeofbees
Summary: Draco has wanted Severus since he can remember. On Valentine's Day of his eighth year, he finally works up the courage to ask for what he wants. Or does he?PWP with some light angst and feels.





	1. "I think we should sleep together."

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been sitting on my computer, completed, for literal years. It's a three-parter, and I think I'll be publishing it on a MWF schedule this week, so keep your eyes peeled :)
> 
> pls note I am my own beta as always, so any and all mistakes are on me.

_"So once you do know what the question actually is, you'll know what the answer means.” –Douglas Adams._

**Chapter One**

** _“I think we should sleep together.”_ **

**1**

Draco was not having a good time of it in Potions. He’d finally made the decision—the morning of, not one of his prouder moments in the planning department—and all he could think about was what he was going to say. Pansy continually nagged at him through the lesson, trying to get him to focus, but his eyes kept flicking towards the front of the classroom, and at any rate looking at Pansy gave him a headache. She was covered head to toe in pink, and he couldn’t help but be forcibly reminded of Professor Umbridge, whom he would just as assume not think about. Besides, the colors were so bright they were nearly blinding, and the way her jumper sparkled made him a little nauseated.

By the time class ended he had managed to produce a reasonable facsimile of the assigned potion, though it was far from his best work. He told Pansy to go ahead, giving some vague, transparent excuse for staying behind even he didn’t fully register. She gave him an odd look but left, falling in step beside Blaise and joining the flow of primarily red- and pink-robed students out of the room. He bottled his potion, cleaned his station, and gathered his things excruciatingly slowly, continually running over a variety of possible tactics. He was Draco Malfoy, and he got what he wanted.

He had a sinking suspicion this would be one of the few times he failed, and almost certainly catastrophically. But he had made up his mind, and he also didn’t run away.

Well. Not mostly.

Not about this.

“Draco, what are you doing?”

Severus’s voice cut through his thoughts like a knife, and he flushed, shoving the last of his things into his bag as quickly as possible. “Sorry, sir,” he said, walking up to his desk and handing in his potion. “I was distracted.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Obviously. No doubt you have more important things on your mind today than producing a proper anti-venom.” He picked up the flask and examined the liquid. “This wouldn’t cure a mosquito bite.”

Draco worked very hard to retain some level of dignity. This wouldn’t work if he let Severus get to him. “I disagree,” he replied, which was not in any way helpful.

Severus shook his head slightly, more of a single jerking movement than an actual response, and set the flask down. “Leave,” he said, sounding bored. “Clearly you are not in a state of mind to make such decisions on your own, and I am sure my classroom is not where you intend to spend your evening. Have you planned out your current conquest, or are you waiting to see where the night takes you?” His question was accompanied by a sneer, and Draco squared his shoulders.

Now or never.

“I think we should sleep together.”

Severus’s eyes sharpened and his jaw clenched. “Excuse me?”

Draco flushed again. That was not what he had meant to say. He’d thought of a hundred quasi-reasonable, much more subtle ways of asking, but it seemed he’d forgotten. “Rather, if you don’t have any plans.”

Severus’s eyes bore into his, and it took a lot of effort not to turn and run, whether he was Draco Malfoy or not. “The only potential problem you see with your suggestion is whether or not I have plans?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“I don’t,” Draco replied, willing himself to maintain eye contact. “Have plans, I mean. Or a problem.”

“I disagree,” he echoed sarcastically. “Judging from your poor performance during class and the determined look in your eye, I would say I am your plan.”

“An option, nothing more,” Draco replied, shrugging lightly as if it meant nothing to him. “I have a plethora of offers, but I find myself tired of sleeping with only those who are sucking up to me. So to speak; I do enjoy being sucked.” He was frankly amazed with his bravery. “Besides, the student population is hardly up to my standards.”

“And I am,” Severus said.

“Presumably,” Draco replied, a hint of a challenge in his voice. “I would hope you have more experience than an average teenager.”

“What makes you think you are up to mine?” Severus said, throwing the dare back. “Are you so much more talented than your peers?”

“Of course,” Draco replied nonchalantly. “Why do you think I’ve had so many offers? It’s not just because I’m devastatingly attractive; I have the skills to back up my reputation.” It was unreal, having this conversation with Severus. It wasn’t going at all the way he expected, but he thought that might be due to a lack of foresight on his part. He’d imagined something heated and passionate, whether with lust or anger. A reasoned civility made perfect sense, given to whom he was talking. He just wasn’t sure how to respond to it.

Severus continued to regard him for a moment before turning back to the papers he was grading. “No.”

Draco’s heart twisted nastily, but he pushed it away. “And why not?”

“I am under no obligation to explain myself,” Severus replied. “I am your teacher, Malfoy. You shouldn’t have asked in the first place.”

Draco felt a little like dying. His feelings towards Severus were longstanding and profoundly complicated, ranging from pure lust to deep respect to pathetically needy love, all shot through with crushing self-doubt and the knowledge there would never, ever be anything between them. Except maybe, just maybe, sex. Severus was exceedingly logical, and Draco really was a good lay. If he could convince him of that, he had a chance.

The dying, though. Severus calling him by his surname was tantamount to being slapped.

“Malfoy, really?” Draco asked, vying for teasing. “Did I offend you so much? I thought you’d be flattered.”

“Implying you are such a catch I could do no better,” Severus replied dryly.

“No, of course not,” Draco backpedaled quickly. “Implying you’d enjoy having someone tell you they wanted you.”

“Implying I do not hear such a thing often,” Severus shot back.

Draco raked his brain for a response. It was so hard; as if it wasn’t awkward enough, there was the embarrassingly strong pain of rejection. After an unsuitably long silence, he gave up.

“You could’ve just said no,” Draco said sharply. “You didn’t have to insult me. I’m not a bloody Hufflepuff, I can handle rejection.”

“I did not reject you,” Severus replied with no inflection whatsoever. “Your bumbling attempt at flattery is pathetic, and if you do not rephrase yourself very quickly, you will find I am quite capable of doling out rejection with no regard whatsoever to your feelings.”

Draco froze, body and mind. He needed to reply, he knew that, but there weren’t any words to be had. “It’s Valentine’s Day and I’d enjoy a good shag,” he said. “I thought you might, too. I’m pretty confident you don’t have any plans because as private as you are, I think you would have told me if you were sleeping with someone. I know you hate holidays, but it’s an excuse for good sex. If I’m not up to your standards, that’ll leave me embarrassed, not you. I don’t see the downside.”

Severus remained silent for so long Draco nearly gave up again. He probably would have if he didn’t hate running away so very, very much.

“Be at my quarters at eight. I will not be impressed if you are late.”

Draco gaped at him for a moment before collecting himself. It was hard, given how—well, _hard_ he suddenly was. “I’m never late,” he said, and left.

**2**

Draco was an utter mess. He took a shower as soon as he got back to the dorms, mostly as an excuse to wank, though he did want to look his best. Still, the wanking was more important. The last thing he wanted was to come too quickly; he was fully capable of coming more than once, but that wasn’t an excuse for embarrassing himself. He didn’t even have the chance to finger himself, Severus’ words echoing through his head. It was obscene that the man could make a threat so sexy.

He spent the rest of the time before dinner getting ready. There was his hair, his skin, his scent, his clothes. Pansy looked on with amusement, offering opinions despite Draco’s insistence he didn’t want them. She made an effort to tease him over how obsessive he was being, but when he pointed out that he’d gotten _Severus Snape_ to have sex with him, she quieted.

Dinner was revolting, filled with glittery red and pink streamers, an abundance of disgusting lovesick gazes through the hall, and drifts of Valentine’s Day cards. Draco got his fair share, but he vanished them without bothering to look. The only person he cared about he was seeing, and wasn’t exactly the type to send a card anyway. He barely ate anything, only relenting when Pansy pointed out he’d probably want the energy later on. A few brief glances at the head table assured him that Severus looked no different than ever, just his usual dour self.

After dinner was even worse. Everyone was paired off, leaving him to stew by himself for a full hour. Rather, the clock said it was an hour; Draco was fairly certain it was at least three or four before the minute hand finally completed its revolution. The walk to Severus’ quarters, on the other hand, passed in a split second, while the time between his knock and the door opening lasted several years.

Severus was wearing a button down white shirt and black slacks. Draco licked his lips subconsciously, unable to keep his eyes from wandering. He himself was wearing a tight black cashmere sweater and tighter dark skinny jeans, but despite spending so long on his appearance when Severus had no doubt thrown on whatever was closest, he was positive there was no way he looked anywhere near as good.

“Are you going to gape all day or do you wish to come in?” Severus asked.

“Yeah, sorry,” Draco muttered, stepping through the door. He had been in Severus’ quarters plenty of times, but never before had he been so nervous or so desperate to move from the sitting room to the bedroom. More often that not he felt more at home here than in his own dorm, but not at this particular moment. “So, er, how was your day?” he asked, turning to face Severus, who raised an eyebrow.

“You wish to spend your time on idle chitchat?” he asked, moving forward into Draco’s space. “I thought you had something more interesting in mind.”

Draco’s mouth went dry, his breathing sped up, and he was starting to get hard again. “Uh, just being polite,” he said, transfixed. Severus’ eyes were darker than usual, the slightest tint of pink high on his cheeks, and his lips as captivating as ever. Draco knew every inch of his face, and the thought of being able to touch the lines and contours he knew so well was extremely distracting. “Manners and all.”

Severus smiled slightly, and Draco had to focus nearly all of his energy on continuing to stand. It wasn’t even a particularly nice smile, more teasing and condescending than anything else. “I was assured you were a cut above your peers,” he replied. “You are not living up to your word, Draco.”

Draco decided words were unnecessary. He leaned up, tentatively resting his hands on Severus’ face, and pulled him down for a kiss. It was electric; the moment their lips touched, Draco was completely gone. Severus was responsive beneath him, though he didn’t instigate anything. Draco was vaguely aware he was being tested, which was less than spectacular given that his brain had melted beyond all recognition. Severus’ lips were slightly chapped and skin much softer than he’d expected. He mapped his face, relearning everything he thought he knew. Severus rested his hands on Draco’s hips, and Draco whimpered quietly, licking his lips until he opened his mouth.

Kissing Severus was beyond everything Draco had ever thought, and he’d thought a lot. Severus was still passive and Draco was very aware that he was in charge, and that he needed to make this absolutely spectacular. The problem was he’d never really _thought_ about kissing before, he’d just done it and his partner would melt beneath him. This was very different. For one thing, Severus was not one to melt. For another, now that Draco was actively thinking about it, he was slipping. He could feel years of experience vanishing, turning him back into an inexperienced eleven-year-old, blinding sticking his tongue into Blaise’s mouth behind the Quidditch bleachers.

Draco jerked away, blushing darkly. “Sorry,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know—I mean, I’ve—you, rather, you’re intimidating and I said things, and I promise those things are true, but I think I’ve forgotten.”

Severus tilted his head up so Draco had no choice but to meet his gaze. “I do not expect you to possess the same—predisposition as myself.” Draco shivered. “Relax, Draco.” He shivered again. The way his name was drawn out was absolutely sinful. “Perhaps a more suitable location than standing in the middle of the living room would be advantageous?” Draco nodded, heading towards the bedroom. Severus grabbed his arm, and Draco let out a quiet gasp at the fingers brushing the sensitive skin of his inner wrist. “Not yet. Sit on the couch.” He released Draco, who walked over to the couch and perched at the very edge, already humiliated.

His one chance, and he was blowing it completely.

Severus joined him a moment later, holding a single glass of red wine. “You are too tense,” he stated, and Draco reached for the glass only to have his hand batted away. He immediately looked away, finding that he was near tears. Bloody hell, what was wrong with him? How did he think Severus would make this easy?

A finger was on his chin again, turning him towards Severus. He met his eyes for a split second before Severus leaned down and kissed him. Draco sighed against his lips and suddenly his mouth was flooded with the sharp, fruity taste of a particularly fine vintage of Cabernet Sauvignon. He let out a quiet moan as he swallowed, Severus stroking his tongue with his own. Draco tangled a hand in his hair, even silkier than his own, and once again took control, licking every drop of wine from his mouth. Beneath the alcohol he tasted musky and spiced, like testosterone and need. Draco wasn’t sure how good it was, but his own need was overtaking him, and he no longer had the strength to pull away, he had wanted this for far too long.

A small voice in the back of his head reminded him that this was nothing other than sex and it would serve him well to remember that, but Draco pushed it away.

Severus still wasn’t responding, not the way Draco wanted him to. He was allowing himself to be kissed but not much more, and Draco was going to be kicked out any minute now, and—

The moment before Draco pulled away to mumble an apology and disappear forever, Severus let out a small sigh. It was tiny, barely enough to hear, but it gave Draco the confidence he needed. He redoubled his efforts, losing himself in Severus. He forced himself to focus only on pleasing Severus and not himself, pretending this was one night of many, that he had nothing to prove because he’d already won his place in his bed.

Draco kept one hand twined in Severus’ hair and let the other trail down his chest, focusing only on Severus’ reactions. He untucked his shirt and ghosted his fingers along the freshly bared skin, staying just above his trousers and not daring to actually venture beneath his shirt. Draco broke their kiss and moved to his neck, licking, kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin. Severus let his head roll to the side giving him access, and hummed appreciatively. When Draco licked along his pulse and sucked, almost certainly hard enough to leave a mark, Severus let out a gasp, and Draco moaned quietly in response. He was straining against his jeans, knowing full well he was far too aroused, but the pain of his zip digging into him was starting to become a legitimate distraction, as well as the trickles of wetness leaking into his pants.

Draco lost the battle with his hands. Before he realized what he was doing, both hands were beneath Severus’ shirt, exploring the body he’d envisioned so often. He was surprised by how many of his fantasies were true—beneath all his robes and layers he was muscled but not overly so, just enough to keep himself in shape for anything that came his way, despite the war having been over for almost a year. A trail of hair leading downwards that Draco had to work very hard to ignore, and a spattering higher on his chest. Nipples hardened beneath his fingers, drawing another sharp breath from Severus. Draco found his way back to his lips, and now Severus was responding much more evidently, their tongues dueling for control.

Time was moving strangely. Draco’s hands were no longer under Severus’ shirt but unbuttoning it, moving with a deft speed he was half proud of and half annoyed with, wishing he could take the time to savor the moment. His mouth was following his hands, licking his way downwards, requiring a lot of self-control to move back up when he finished the last button. He pushed his shirt open, sparing a moment to appreciate his chest before dipping his head and placing a gentle kiss on his left nipple. Severus moaned quietly, and Draco could feel the vibrations against his lips. He needed to get out of his own trousers very soon, but now he was too busy swirling his tongue around the tightened nub, experimentally scraping his teeth along the sensitive bud. Another louder moan, and Draco couldn’t help the answering whimper. He switched sides, not stopping until Severus twined his hands in his hair and pulled him up for a proper kiss.

That was when Draco learned he had no idea about how to kiss or what it was supposed to feel like. Sparks and electricity and fireworks and explosions, tingles and shivers racing through his body. Severus anchored them together, one hand staying in Draco’s hair, the other going to his hip. Draco couldn’t stop small whimpers and quiet moans from escaping, no matter how inappropriate it was for just a kiss.

It was also when Draco realized how deeply he was in over his head. Any doubts he’d had about being in love with Severus were gone. This was perfect, stunning, absolutely exactly what he’d been missing his entire life. His heart was aching, and he hated himself for it. He knew he needed to stop now, he was only going to get hurt, but he couldn’t. Instead he focused on Severus’ mouth and his hands and how, just for this moment, he could pretend that he felt the same.

The fact that the pretending was even better than the kiss itself was in no way an issue.

“Sev,” Draco sighed, the name escaping his lips without his permission. He tensed; was that allowed? Probably not, especially not while they were just kissing. It was just that they _were_ kissing, and it was Severus, and it was so beyond good. But Severus didn’t reply, just continued to kiss him, so Draco returned to exploring his chest and pushing back on his shirt, trying to slide it off his shoulders without success. Severus refused to let go of him, which Draco supposed was a good sign.

Draco needed more. Now. He was very used to being in the dominant roll and he wasn’t sure how to proceed. He certainly wasn’t going to push Severus back so he was lying on top of him, or pull him onto his lap so Draco was beneath him. What did the passive partner do? Sit and wait? He was too impatient and still worried about proving himself and should be doing _something_, only he didn’t know what.

He pulled away from Severus, pulled his sweater off and went back to kissing. That was reasonable, probably. Severus certainly seemed to think so—his hands immediately moved to Draco’s buttons, undoing them with much more dexterity than Draco had possessed. He was gasping as Severus’ fingers brushed his bare skin, not purposefully feeling him but ghosting along as he took care of the buttons. Draco was becoming ridiculously desperate, his kisses growing sloppy as he was undressed, forgetting how to use his hands entirely and just resting them on Severus’ chest. This was not how it was supposed to go and there was nothing he could do about it.

He did manage to take advantage of Severus completely removing his shirt, and get rid of Severus’ as well. He licked his lips, heart pounding wildly, extraordinarily aware of the situation. Snogging Severus Snape, on his couch, while they were both shirtless. Draco pulled him closer, needing to feel their bodies pressed together, unable to help the loud moan that escaped at the contact.

“Eager, are we?” Severus asked quietly, though he didn’t move away.

Draco chose not to answer verbally. Instead he slid a leg between Severus’, the angle awkward but irrelevant. He was still thinking clearly enough to remember not to move too closely lest Severus feel _exactly _how eager he was. The extra contact and the symbolism of being between Severus’ leg was too much as it was; if his erection came into contact with him, that would be the end of it.

His plan didn’t work. Rather, it worked too well. Severus growled in the back of his throat and pulled Draco onto his lap, moving him so he was straddling his leg, bodies pressed firmly together, and Draco bucked forward uncontrollably, rubbing his clothed erection against Severus and only barely not coming. Severus grabbed his arse and shifted him, and Draco legitimately thought for a few seconds that he had something in his pocket before coming to the revelation that he wasn’t the only one who was hard.

Draco groaned, grinding against him. “Oh fuck,” he breathed, the fact that they were half naked completely unimportant. He stopped their kiss entirely, resting his head on Severus’ shoulder and scooting back so he had access to his trousers. He moaned again at feeling the hardness beneath his fingers, not missing the light hiss that Severus made. He fumbled with the button, hands shaking, before finally managing it and moving onto the much easier zip. He couldn’t bring himself to slide his hand beneath his pants, that was too scary, but he did go beneath his trousers and palm him through the thin fabric. They moaned together at the sensation, and Draco instinctually tightened his grip, more because his entire body was clenching than anything else.

“Above pants groping?” Severus asked, though his voice wasn’t entirely even and his hands were still sliding over and squeezing his arse. “I thought you were above such teenaged foolishness.”

“Just warming up,” Draco muttered, hiding his head in Severus’ shoulder. For fuck’s sake he knew what he was doing. Really. Probably. Or he had, at least, before he was sitting half naked on Severus’ lap with his hand down his trousers. And, as Severus pointed out, above his pants.

“Consider yourself warmed,” Severus replied, grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a deep kiss. Draco whimpered into his mouth and, gathering his courage, moved beneath his pants. His breathing stopped; Severus was long, thick and harder than he seemed through his pants. He was hot and velvety and fuck, leaking. For Draco. Because of what he was doing. Draco’s breath came back in sharp pants, but at least the knowledge spurred him into action. He ran his thumb over his slit, eliciting a low moan, squeezing and stroking his head, dancing his fingers along his shaft, doing anything and everything he could to gather more fluid. Severus was responding beneath him, panting lightly, thrusting up and moaning occasionally when Draco found a particularly sensitive spot. The angle was awkward, but Draco made the best of it, and apparently his best was decent at the very lest.

“Take off your trousers?” Draco asked breathily. “And pants?”

Severus muttered a spell, and Draco was sitting on an entirely naked Severus. Draco let out a long, low moan, once again involuntarily tightening his hand, which caused Severus to reciprocate. From Draco’s perspective, forehead leaning on Severus’ shoulder, he had the perfect view of his erection, and it was the single sexiest sight he had ever seen. A wave of tingles washed through him, his balls started to tighten, and he had to squeeze his eyes closed and think of a naked Dumbledore to prevent himself from coming.

Severus cast another unheard spell, and then Draco was naked as well, and all his work went out the window. Everything tightened again and he wasn’t able to breathe at all and tingles were taking over and he was going to come, now, because what else was he supposed to do? In a last ditch effort he released Severus and wrapped a hand around himself, tightly squeezing his base, and while the need didn’t recede, at least he couldn’t physically ejaculate.

“My, my,” Severus said silkily. “Already, Draco?”

Draco closed his eyes. “Shut up.”

Severus’ hand was suddenly on him, squeezing and stroking, doing things to him Draco had never heard of, let alone been on the receiving end. All he could think was _Severus, Severus’ hand, Severus touching me, oh fuck Severus’ hand_ and he melted completely, all muscles going slack, including his hand, and that was the end.

Draco screamed as his body convulsed. Severus continued to do whatever ridiculously amazing thing he was doing as Draco emptied himself onto them. Everything, absolutely everything was gone, leaving only pure sensation, absolute pleasure and the knowledge that this was _Severus_ who was making him feel this way. He had never had an orgasm last so long before, and even though by the end it was nearly painful, he would have been more than happy if it never stopped.

**3**

He barely heard the cleaning spell Severus cast, only registering it at all because his voice would _always_ register. He was a pile of mush, unable to do anything other than slump pathetically against Severus, who rearranged him so he was wrapped in his arms, cuddled against his chest. If he had any energy whatsoever he would have reverted to pathetic self-pitying desperation but he physically couldn’t muster up the emotion. All he could think was that Severus had made him come, Severus was cuddling him, Severus was rock hard beneath him, and Severus might possibly feel the same way about him because he had made him come and was cuddling him and was rock hard.

Probably not.

But maybe.

Then he was being lifted, walked into the bedroom, and laid down on the bed. He let out a sigh of contentment and forced his eyes open. Severus was lying next to him with a look of vague amusement, disappointment and his trademark disapproval.

“You have oversold your abilities,” Severus said, lecturing voice creeping in. “I was pleasantly surprised at your handjob, but clearly you leave much to be desired.”

Draco flushed, and he found he did indeed have the energy to feel awful. “You’re assuming,” he replied angrily. “You haven’t seen how many times I can come.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Draco smirked. “More than you can handle.”

“And your turnaround time?”

Draco’s smirk widened. “See for yourself.” Severus gave him a firm stroke, and Draco shivered. “Think you deserve my attention, though. I owe you.”

Severus hesitated a moment. “I may have understated your skills. Give me a few minutes.”

Draco whimpered. Was it really possible he had turned Severus on so much in such a short period of time? It couldn’t be. But it was growing less and less important as Severus continued to stroke him and he started to harden again. While the process was sped up by his partner being Severus—actually _Severus_—he was proud of his ability at repeat performances. It didn’t take long at all for him to be hard again, and thrusting lightly into his hand.

“See?” he said breathily. “I could go all night. Longer than you, certainly.”

“My age gives me experience you clearly lack,” Severus replied, removing his hand.

Draco whined. “I didn’t mean stop.”

Severus finally returned the smirk. “Rest assured, I am not stopping.”

Draco hadn’t realized he closed his eyes, and he opened them to see Severus dipping a finger into a jar of lube. Draco let out a noise somewhere between a whimper, a moan, and the final croak of a dying frog at the image. Not one of his finer moments.

“Draco, spread your legs.”

He did as instructed. He shouldn’t have been turned on by Severus sounding as he did in the classroom, but he was. He also lifted his knees, giving Severus better access.

“Are you going to come again as soon as I am inside you?” Severus asked conversationally, circling his hole and gently pressing.

Draco pushed down uncontrollably. “_Ohh._ No. Probably not. See for yourself. Maybe when you—_fuck._” He broke off as Severus pushed a finger inside. Draco thrust down against him, needing more contact, more friction, more everything, and then he brushed his prostate and that was a _lot_ more and he screamed again. “Sev, _fuck_, more.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t encourage your ego, but you are _incredibly_ erotic,” Severus said lowly, and Draco almost came from his words alone, never mind the second finger he added and the way he was being so skillfully stretched. A slight burn, just enough to heighten the pleasure, and the continual teasing his prostate. Draco knew he was attractive, but the thought of Severus noticing or finding his body erotic, that was nigh unbelievable.

Despite the overwhelming feeling of Severus inside him, Draco attempted to use this new knowledge to his advantage. He arched up slightly, licked his lips and drew his bottom lip between his teeth, and ran a hand through his hair. Severus let out a hiss, and Draco spread his legs even further and gently wrapped a hand around himself, not stroking, just projecting the visual.

Severus growled deeply and shoved a third, then fourth finger into him, barely giving any warning at all. Draco screamed again, arching up uncontrollably, biting hard on the inside of his cheek to distract from the pain, and balling his hand in his hair because he needed to hold onto _something_ and his hair was closest.

“Oh, _fuck_, Sev,” he moaned, voice cracking. “Merlin fucking _Christ_.”

“Am I hurting you?” Severus asked, not exactly sounding like he cared.

“Yeah, don’t stop,” Draco gasped. “Good, really good. Don’t stop.”

“Hmm, my little Draco is a masochist,” Severus mused, and Draco’s heart jumped at the possessiveness. “I find I am not surprised in the least.”

Draco was so full, the fire equal parts pain and pleasure, his prostate slammed against so hard it would probably be bruised, but _fuck_ it felt fantastic. Better than anything he had ever felt. Of course Severus would be his best lay, but this was better than any and all of his fantasies. And he had a lot of fantasies.

“Fine, whatever,” Draco breathed. “Just. Fuck me. Please.” Strictly speaking, a fuck was the last thing he wanted, but begging to be “made love to” was out of the question for so many reasons he couldn’t list them. Severus withdrew his fingers, and Draco moaned in disappointment. He was so empty, muscles fluttering around nothing, and he needed to be filled again _now_.

“Sev,” he whimpered. “Sev, please. Don’t tease. Fuck I need you. In me, fucking me, please, you.” He ran through his words and realized he may not have said the right thing. “Your cock. In me. So big, thick, _fuck_, please, fuck me, now, need you.”

Severus made that growling noise again as he settled between Draco’s legs, lining himself up and rubbing teasingly against his hole. “Keep talking.”

Draco groaned. He didn’t usually talk during sex and was more well versed in dirty talk as a means to get someone in bed rather than an in bed activity, but he could wing it. Talking about Severus, that was easy. It was knowing when to shut up that would be the tricky part.

“Sev,” he moaned, pushing down, trying to get him inside. “Please fuck me. Please, Sev, your cock, I can feel you, _ugh_, leaking. Against me. Please, inside me. Feel you stretching me, leaking in me, _coming_ in me._ God_, fuck, coming in me, filling me, _please_ stop teasing me. _Please_.”

“Like this?” Severus asked teasingly, finally breaching the rim of tight muscles and sliding just his head inside.

Draco screamed again, throat starting to turn raw. “_Fuck_ yes, more but more, Sev, oh fuck, you, just you.” He vaguely remembered that was wrong. “So good, you feel so good, more, all of you, _please_. You’re so big, I love you—love it, your cock, _please_, I need it.” Clearly he couldn’t trust himself, but he wasn’t able to be too upset, not when _Severus was inside him because they were having sex_. Of course he kept slipping, how the fuck could he not when they were _having sex_?

Severus slammed the rest of the way in, and Draco screamed again. “You’re so tight,” he said lowly, circling his hips. “Draco, so tight and hot, you feel so good.”

Draco was going to explode. Everything. Just. Gone forever. He was going to remember those words forever. No matter what happened, Severus thought he felt good. He didn’t have the breath to respond or the mental capacities to figure out what to say, so he reverted to incoherent noises. When Severus started to thrust properly, Draco started screaming again, and he returned the hand that had drifted away to his base and held himself, once again on the edge.

“Move your hand,” Severus demanded.

“Can’t,” Draco breathed. “Fuck, Sev, gonna come.”

“I know,” Severus groaned. “I want to feel you around me.”

Draco whimpered. “I, uh, yeah, okay.” He loosened his grip, Severus sped up, and Draco came again, somehow stronger than the first time, and that shouldn’t have been possible, but evidently it was. Severus was _huge_ inside him, rubbing against his prostate just by being there, Draco’s cock was rubbing between their chests, Severus leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss, and Draco was desperate against him, pulling him as close as physics allowed. He needed more, so much more, but he was still coming and Severus was still inside him, actually inside him, and impossibly hard, and everything was so _good_. Awful, too, but physically _astounding_.

Severus broke away just as the last few spurts shot between them. “_Merlin_ Draco,” he moaned. “Fuck you’re tight.”

“Uhh, yeah,” Draco sighed, shivering as Severus continued to slam into his over-sensitized body and rub against his over-sensitized flesh. He forced a smirk onto his face. “Still hard, too.” Severus rammed into him, and he shrieked, smirk gone.

“Maybe,” Severus panted. “But I’m not screaming.”

“I don’t care,” Draco groaned. “_So_ good.” He managed one more coherent thought before losing himself completely. “You were moaning about me. Don’t need to prove myself.”

“Shut up.”

And then everything was gone but Severus and the friction and pressure and _Severus_. Draco couldn’t do anything other than lie there and let Severus take him, but neither of them seemed to mind. Draco had no idea how long it lasted, only that it wasn’t nearly long enough—as in not forever—before he was on the edge again and Severus’ thrusts grew erratic.

Severus gave a final thrust, slamming in as far and hard as he could before coming. He moaned continually, filling Draco in a way he never had been, and Draco came as well, the orgasm ripping through him, screaming his name. Severus collapsed onto him and Draco turned boneless, so exhausted he didn’t understand how he was awake.

Severus rolled off him, cleaned them both with a quick spell, and lay on his back, relaxing. Draco wanted to move against him for more cuddles but he didn’t think that would end well so he stayed where he was, also on his back and half a bed away.


	2. "Get out of my bed, Malfoy."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco makes a lot of resolutions about how things are going to go, and follows through on absolutely zero of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I don't know what days are because this is definitely Thursday and not Wednesday. Oops.
> 
> Again, I am my own beta, no one to blame but me.

**Chapter Two**

** _“Get out of my bed, Malfoy.”_ **

**4**

Draco was almost asleep when Severus spoke.

“Leave before you fall asleep.”

Draco’s heart froze. His blood turned cold and his veins restricted, pain shooting through his entire body. He supposed he had known this was coming—it was just a shag after all, nothing more—but it was so different hearing him say it rather than knowing the theoretical. He drew on energy he didn’t have to stop himself from breaking down. He was Draco Malfoy. He didn’t break down.

“It’s late,” Draco replied, whining petulantly to disguise the hurt. “I’m tired. I don’t want to get up.”

Severus sighed irritably. Draco couldn’t see him and he didn’t want to. “Get out of my bed, Malfoy.”

The sting of his last name was like a slap to the face. “Okay, fine,” he grumbled, dragging himself off the soft bed that still smelled like sex, out of the reach of Severus’ body heat. He dressed in silence, shooting Severus what he hoped was a miffed glare and nothing more. “I suppose I’ll see you in class, then.”

“Goodbye.”

“Prick,” Draco muttered under his breath as he left. He slammed the door behind himself and immediately regretted it. Would Severus read anything into it, or just assume he was irritable because he was tired? Probably the latter. They had known each other for long enough that Severus should be well aware he didn’t handle exhaustion well.

The farther from Severus’ quarters he walked, the worse the pain became. It felt as though he had wrapped a part of himself around Severus, made room for him and incorporated him into himself only to have him wrenched away, leaving not only a hole but also the wound he’d left through. Tears were building, and when he arrived at the blank expanse of wall that was the entrance to the Slytherin dorms, he realized he couldn’t go in. Not like this, not when he was such a mess. Not only would everyone see, but he was relatively certain if he got into his own bed alone, he would go crazy.

Instead Draco sat on the stone floor, leaning against the wall. He winced, his arse flaring in pain at the hard surface. Something swelled in him at the thought of Severus causing the pain before bursting, flooding his veins with more ice. It was so bloody pathetic, and he hated himself for it. He’d known this was going to happen, he knew Severus didn’t feel that way about him, that he never would. Asking for sex had been a huge mistake, but he should be able to cope with it. Draco Malfoy did not break down.

Draco Malfoy was also not rejected. He had never been turned down, never been met with anything but saccharine delight at his attentions. Of course Severus wouldn’t turn into a simpering schoolgirl at Draco’s interest, but he supposed a part of him had expected something, no matter how stupid it was. Not a relationship, of course, but being allowed to spend the night at the very least. For Merlin’s sake, he’d slept in Severus’ quarters before, albeit on the couch. Possibly an invitation for a continued affair—purely physical, but still better than nothing.

He wondered if he hadn’t been good enough, if he hadn’t passed the test after all. Severus was rational. If he had enjoyed himself, certainly he’d be interested in sex again, right?

Draco shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. The dull heat that had been so excruciatingly pleasant at the time was now bitingly painful. The burning mixed strangely and unpleasantly with the coldness of his blood.

Was this the end of his relationship with Severus entirely? Had he sacrificed the most important person in his life for a single night of pleasure? Not even a full night? He didn’t think he’d be able to survive if Severus pulled away completely. His parents had never been the affectionate type, or really very interested in him at all, and Severus had been the only person he’d been able to rely on, to lean on when he’d needed it. If that was gone… He should have clarified before they’d started, made sure nothing would change. Of course it would have anyways, but at least then he’d be able to blame Severus for going back on his word rather than himself for being stupid enough not to ask.

Draco spent a long time sitting on the floor feeling sorry for himself. He cried a bit. More than a bit, really, but he wasn’t willing to admit how much. Everything was frozen and burnt at the same time. He was aware that he’d regressed from eighteen to thirteen and most likely switched genders. He hated himself and he hated Severus. He hated everything he could think of, actually. He thought quite seriously about running away.

Eventually he decided he should probably wait and see how things went. Maybe, against all odds, it would somehow be okay. He couldn’t think of how, but maybe. Severus was rational, after all. No doubt he could separate sex from love with no issue whatsoever, which could mean that everything would go back to how it had been. He didn’t particularly want that, but it was better than nothing, and all he could hope for.

Draco hauled himself to his feet, uttered the password, and went to bed. It was just as empty and lonely as he’d expected, and without Severus was cold and smelled like laundry instead of spicy testosterone.

He fell asleep as the Black Lake turned from sable to murky emerald.

**5**

Nothing changed.

Draco tried to convince himself that was a good thing. His relationship with Severus was the same as it had always been; he was favored in class, received higher than average marks, and was still welcome for tea, as much as Severus ever welcomed him. It took a few days for Draco to work up the courage to go back to his quarters, and several visits to be able to think about anything other than sex, but he wasn’t shut out.

He was miserable, though. He had thought a one-off would be better than nothing, but he had been so wrong. He knew what Severus’ lips felt like against him, what he looked like under his clothes, how he sounded when he came. It was unfortunate, unreasonable and unfixable. The knowledge ate at him, worming away at his insides until he had no insides left. Just seeing Severus was enough to trigger a downward spiral of pathetic self-pity. He saw Severus a lot. A minimum of three times a day at meals, almost always more.

On the first of March Draco decided enough was enough. Pulling himself out of the hole he was in was almost a physical activity, and it certainly wasn’t all-inclusive, but it was better. It wasn’t that he had been wallowing or purposefully making himself miserable, but there were a few things he could stop. Like wanking to Severus, that was out of the question. Letting his mind wander in class was no longer allowed, nor in Severus’ quarters. He decided to stop turning down sex from his usual partners, but he couldn’t bring himself to follow through with that, leaving Pansy extremely annoyed at him.

But it was better, at least somewhat.

On the fourth of March, a Saturday, everything he had accomplished was undone. That night at dinner he received a note, and the words turned him into a fiery explosion.

_My quarters at seven. Do not expect tea._

Draco’s world flipped. He was good enough? Severus did want him? He hadn’t completely embarrassed himself? He forced out any even remotely romantic thoughts and focused purely on the physical. Severus would never be interested in him the way Draco wanted him to be, but at least they could have sex again. It did occur to Draco that if one time left him such a wreck repeating the experience might not be the wisest decision, but saying no wasn’t an option.

He glanced up at the head table. Severus looked no different than usual. Of course.

Draco shoved the note into his pocket and left dinner to get ready. He broke his wanking rule in the shower, unable to help himself. He came quick and hard, and maybe he wouldn’t come quite so easily tonight. Unlikely but possible.

Getting dressed, however, was not possible. Easy access and needing to look his absolute best were not compatible. Additionally, easy access could be taken as desperation, depending on how easy he was going for.

He was still wearing nothing but his towel when he checked the time. Five past seven. Draco let out a litany of curses and threw on whatever was closest before sprinting out of his room and making his way to Severus’ quarters. He knocked, out of breath and finally realizing what he was wearing. Ripped sweats and a dirty Quidditch jersey. Good lord.

Severus opened the door and regarded him.

“You certainly look good this evening,” he said dryly.

“You didn’t give me much time,” Draco replied, walking into the living room and trying to decide if he should go straight to the bedroom or not. “For what it’s worth I smell good.”

“On the contrary, you smell like sweat and old laundry,” Severus said, closing the door. “Or is that supposed to be good?”

Draco was equal parts angry and humiliated. “My hair, then,” he snapped. “I took a shower before coming over and my hair smells good.”

That generated was a surprisingly successful response. Severus pulled him into his arms, nuzzled his hair and inhaled deeply. Draco’s knees weakened.

“Vanilla and hints of testosterone mixed with nervous sweat,” he remarked. “Not terribly unpleasant.”

Draco ordered himself to remove himself from his arms and storm out, but that didn’t work out. “I assumed I met your standards, otherwise you wouldn’t have invited me back.”

Severus leaned down and crashed his lips against Draco’s. It took him a moment to remember how to respond, to push the overwhelming desire and relief flooding through him away, but he did kiss him back and, he thought, did a decent job of it.

Severus pulled away after an indeterminate amount of time. “You are preferable to a hand,” he said.

That time Draco did jerk away. “Really bloody flattering, that,” he snapped. “If you intend to get in my pants, I’d appreciate at least a little flattery. Common courtesy, Severus. Lie if you’ve got to, but don’t be an arse.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Pardon me. You are without a doubt the best lay I’ve ever had and I couldn’t live without your touch.”

Draco’s stomach twisted angrily. Those may have been his thoughts exactly. “Fine,” he replied haughtily, silently thanking his upbringing for an ability to mask any and all emotions under the guise of disdain. “I’ll just go, then. Enjoy your hand.” He started to leave, and Severus grabbed his arm.

“Immature brat,” he said, drawing Draco to him. “If you do not wish to repeat our encounter, grow up and tell me. Do not throw a tantrum.”

Draco couldn’t think of a response. Absolutely yes versus saving his pride. “Why?” he settled. “And don’t give me some bull about your hand. You could get sex if you wanted it, you don’t need to come to me.”

“And yet I chose to,” Severus replied, and with those five words the fiery explosion was back. “Must I explain my motives?”

_Yes_, Draco thought angrily. “No.”

“Then put your mouth to better use.”

Draco dropped to his knees and set to work undoing his trousers.

“I find your impatience endearing,” Severus remarked. “I was not referring to such an act, but I certainly won’t tell you to stop.”

Draco had to bite back a smile. Endearing? Endearing was good. His own presumptuousness was less good, but apparently acceptable. He moved down to Severus’ shoes and took them and his socks off before pulling down his trousers and pants. Severus rested a hand on his shoulder to steady himself and stepped out of his clothes. He was only half hard, but Draco decided that was better than nothing. Just because he was already leaking didn’t mean Severus was that desperate.

Draco leaned back on his heels and gave Severus and firm tug, reveling at the feel of his velvety hardness. He had been utterly convinced he’d never be able to touch him again, and he was even better than he’d remembered. He stroked back down and rested his hand lightly around his base.

“Well?” he asked innocently, meeting Severus’ eyes. “Better than your hand?”

Severus glared at him. “I was under the impression you would be using your mouth.”

“Not if you’re such a bastard,” Draco replied, tracing patterns lightly along his shaft. “I’m not a whore, Severus. You can’t treat me like crap, expect a fantastic lay, and then kick me out.”

Severus sighed heavily. “What do you want?”

Draco made absolutely certain he wasn’t going to say what he meant before answering. “Respect.”

“Sex does not change my feelings towards you,” Severus replied, and part of Draco died. “I respect you as much as you deserve.”

Draco removed his hand entirely. “You really are an arse,” he said angrily.

“You think my opinion of you so low?” Severus asked harshly. “Of course I respect you.”

Once again, Draco told himself to walk out. Severus was only saying that to get him in bed. It was sort of flattering, that he’d lie to get him in bed. Not enough, though.

It was a shame even he didn’t respect himself anymore.

“I expect you to make this up to me,” Draco said, going back to stroking him.

“I was not aware you could enjoy yourself more than last time,” Severus replied lightly.

“I hate you,” Draco snapped.

“And yet you aren’t stopping.”

“I still want to get laid,” he replied angrily. “Shut the fuck up.” He hated himself for it, but he took Severus in his mouth and sucked hard, cutting off any further comments. He let himself focus on Severus, once again pretending this was a nightly occurrence and that Severus didn’t hate him. He hadn’t thought that was the case, but evidently it was.

That was another shame, that Draco was still in love with him. He was aware it probably meant he was deeply disturbed, but Severus was now fully hard and he’d barely started, and that fact alone was enough to make his heart swell. Draco still wasn’t feeling particularly charitable and purposefully avoided the spots he knew to be most sensitive, skipping over the place where his head met his shaft, ignoring his slit even though he was dying to lick off the drop of precome, and refused to take him fully into his mouth. He was extremely pleased with his self-restraint.

Severus twined his hands in Draco’s hair and pulled him up, giving him a quick but deep kiss. “I’m sorry I offended you,” he said.

Draco looked up at him with something like wonder. Severus never apologized. “Thanks,” he said vaguely. Severus’ erection was bumping against his hip.

“Are you feeling as frisky as last time?” Severus asked.

Draco blinked. “What?”

Severus smiled slyly and rested a hand on Draco’s bulge. He let out a sigh and pushed forward. He hadn’t planned the sweatpants at all, but the lack of a zip was extremely advantageous. “I would like to pay you back,” he replied, “but not if you can only come once.”

Draco let out a whimper and rubbed against Severus’ hand. “I’m fine,” he said. “Always fine. I’ve got a gift, can always come a lot, told you last time.”

“Lucky me,” Severus replied lowly. His hand dipped below Draco’s waistband, and both men let out a sharp breath. “No pants?”

“Forgot,” Draco managed, leaning against Severus to keep upright. “Thinking about, uh. This.”

“A good decision, however accidental,” Severus said silkily, wrapping his hand around Draco and stroking lightly. “Already so hard? And leaking, all for me.”

Draco groaned. “Merlin yes, all yours.” He realized this was straying into dangerous territory but _fuck_ it sounded good. “Mm, more.” Severus tightened his grip and sped up. He didn’t shy away from what Draco liked, and it didn’t take long at all for Draco to turn into a shaking, whimpering mess. “Sev,” he moaned. “Not in my sweats.”

“That close already?” Severus asked, twisting his hand around Draco’s head.

Draco let out a low whimper. “_Uhh_, yes.”

“How do you want to come?” Severus asked, brushing his lips against Draco’s ear. “This is for you.”

Fiery explosion, but more so. Draco’s heart was full to bursting. “Fuck, Sev, anything.”

“Tell me,” Severus breathed. “Whatever you want.”

A million fantasies flew through Draco’s mind. “Uhh,” he tried. “I. Um.” He swallowed. “Anything?”

“Anything,” Severus whispered, placing a kiss just below Draco’s ear.

Draco whimpered again. How the fuck could Severus be so sexy? It wasn’t bloody fair. He decided to say anything but the truth, which was why he said the truth. “Can I come on your face?”

Severus stilled for a split second before continuing. “I suppose.”

Draco moaned. “God I love—” _Fuck_. That was _way_ too close. “—sex with you.”

Severus didn’t reply, and Draco would have cared that he’d stepped over the line if he was capable of caring about anything other than the fact Severus’ hand had left his cock and his sweatpants were being pulled down. He forced his eyes open to watch as Severus kneeled before him and returned to the handjob. Draco had no idea what noises he was making or how pathetic they were, this was too much. He’d wanted this, exactly this, for far too long.

Severus licked a line along his vein and Draco shrieked, burying a hand in his hair. “Close,” he moaned. “Almost—just so close.”

Severus twisted over his head again, fondled his balls, and breathed lightly on his head. Draco gave another shriek as he let go, watching in awe as he shot over his face. He had no idea anything could be so erotic. Severus was flushed and panting lightly and Draco had no idea how he could find this sexy. Of course Draco would love to be on the receiving end, but that was different. He was in love with the man as well as being a bottom; Severus was neither of those things. But it was good, so bloody good, and after what seemed like an eternity he was empty. His knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor, gasping for air. The smart thing would have been to wait until he could breathe again but instead he pulled Severus into a deep kiss before licking his face clean. Severus hummed in response, and once again Draco was struck by how obscenely sensual he was.

The tiny part of his brain that still worked remembered that Severus was naked from the waist down. He continued to lap at his come as he wrapped a hand around him and stroked, all anger forgotten in favor of making Severus feel as good as possible. He was even harder than before and moaning freely.

“What about you?” Draco breathed, moving down for a kiss. “Coming, I mean. How often?”

“It’s been a long time since I have had to know the answer to that question,” Severus replied, thrusting up into his hand. “I wouldn’t count on more than once.”

Draco whimpered. “I need you,” he breathed. “Now. Inside me.”

Severus glanced down. “Merlin, hard again already?”

“All you,” Draco sighed, probably inappropriately. “_Accio_ lube.” He handed the jar to Severus. “Now, rest, then more?”

Severus slicked two fingers and started circling Draco’s hole, teasing him into a series of breathy moans. “I would not turn you down.”

Draco groaned, knowing the words meant much more to him than Severus intended and not caring. “Then fuck me.” He shrieked again as Severus pushed his fingers in. A string of curses spilled out, increasing in volume and profanity as he was stretched. A third finger was added almost immediately, and Draco inadvertently tightened his grip on Severus, who curled his fingers in response, hitting Draco’s prostate. Draco let out a full on scream and tightened again. This time Severus grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away.

“Not yet.” He was already close? His brain tried to make sense of the knowledge but it wasn’t possible. The jar was pushed into his hand, and after a moment he realized why and what he was supposed to be doing. Draco considered it a minor miracle he managed to prepare Severus while he was being stretched and stroked and teased, but the silky feel of Severus’ cock was just enough to keep him focused.

“I’m ready,” Draco said, words barely available. “Strip us, then fuck me.”

Severus muttered a spell, and all remaining clothes were gone. Draco moaned and pushed against him, inadvertently causing their cocks to rub together, triggering a louder moan. He pushed back against Severus’ fingers, desperate for more.

“Please, Sev. Fuck me.”

Severus removed his fingers and, before Draco had a chance to complain, lifted him and pulled him down onto his erection. Draco screamed again, wrapping a hand around his base to keep from coming immediately, using his other to pull Severus in for a kiss. He needed the contact, the connection, however much of a lie it was. Severus’ hands remained on his hips, tightening to the point of leaving bruises. He stayed still for a moment, panting harshly into Draco’s mouth, who was wriggling frantically against him.

“Please,” he moaned, and the dam broke.

Severus lifted Draco and slammed him back down. Draco moaned again, leaning fully against him, kissing his neck and shoulder. Severus continued to move him, making sure to hit his prostate with each thrust, and Draco tightened his hold on himself, determined not to come until Severus did. Draco stayed as close to Severus as possible, chests rubbing together and refusing to remove his mouth from his neck, despite the increased awkwardness as he was moved faster.

“Draco,” Severus groaned, and Draco spent several long moments waiting for the rest of his sentence before realizing that _was_ his sentence. Draco let out an answering groan, attempting to help set the rhythm but Severus wasn’t letting him. He changed the angle slightly and Draco moaned again, sinking his teeth into Severus’ neck, unable to help himself. “_Fuck_, Draco, relax. Too tight, I’m going to come.”

Draco whimpered. “Can’t. Again, later, remember? So close, please come.”

Severus changed the angle again, allowing himself to go deeper and harder and faster. Draco laved his tongue over the mark he’d made, needing something to focus on other than the sex because otherwise he was going to come immediately, regardless of his hand.

“_Draco_.”

Draco’s hand flew away of its own accord and they came together, Draco screaming and Severus moaning. Draco pulled them together, voice breaking and kissing him desperately. Severus returned the kiss just as passionately, tightening his grip on his hips. Severus filled him completely, Draco’s new favorite thing, as Draco emptied between them.

It was so easy to melt against him as the shaking finally subsided and Draco could no longer hold himself up. Severus muttered something, probably a cleaning spell because the stickiness vanished. He moved his hands around to Draco’s back, and after a few moments Draco realized he was being _hugged_. Even more than that, _held_. He hummed contentedly, curling against Severus. This was worlds apart from last time, down to the fact that Severus was still inside him.

“You certainly seem ready for that nap,” Severus said sarcastically, though Draco knew that flavor of sarcasm, and it was masked affection.

He had to think for a minute. He’d proposed a nap and then more sex, that was right. How brilliant; cuddling leading into another round of sex? He was a fucking genius. Unless Severus expected him to sleep on the couch, but that seemed a little harsh. Then again, so did kicking him out in the middle of the night, and that’s what happened last time.

“Draco?” Severus asked softly. “Are you asleep already?”

“Mm, no,” Draco sighed. “But yes, let’s nap.”

Severus slid himself out of Draco, who whimpered lightly in protest. He stood, lifting Draco to his feet, and started towards his bedroom. Draco looked after him nervously. Was he expected to follow or go to the couch?

Severus reached the doorway, realized he was alone, and turned around. This was the first time Draco had seen him standing and naked, and he liked it very much.

“Are you coming?” he asked. “Or do you intend to sleep on my floor?”

Draco flushed and quickly followed. “Sorry, I didn’t—after last time, I mean—wasn’t sure if you—overstepping, maybe.” That was embarrassing for so many reasons.

“Taking a brief nap between rounds of sex is not the same as spending the night,” Severus replied, and Draco decided that was true.

“Yeah, sorry,” he mumbled. He kept his eyes down as he shuffled over to the side of Severus’ bed, gingerly climbing under the covers like they might explode if he wasn’t careful. The bed moved, and then tantalizing warmth joined him. A few physical inches away, but for all it mattered Severus could be on the other side of the world.

Draco didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, that he’d be way too nervous to relax, but the strength of his orgasm was overwhelming, and he was asleep a few moments later.

**6**

Draco was woken by a series of soft kisses along his neck and fingers trailing delicately along his chest. He sighed happily and snuggled closer, breathing in the familiar scent of Severus. He was finally here, finally in his bed, finally loved.

“Ready yet?”

His heart plummeted. Right, none of that was true. He was here for sex, nothing more. He considered saying no to prolong their contact, to stay in his bed as long as possible, to give himself a few more minutes to pretend before deciding that was idiotic. It was more than obvious he was ready. Lying would accomplish nothing.

Lying about that, rather. Lying about how he felt would absolutely accomplish everything.

Draco stretched luxuriously, and gave Severus his best I’m-sleepy-and-horny-and-doesn’t-that-make-me-sexy smile. “Ready indeed,” he purred, thrusting his hips up slightly, just enough so his erection would be clearly visible beneath the sheets. “But my readiness was never the question. You could fuck me all… night… long… and I’d be ready every time.” He drew out the words, watching as Severus’ eyes darkened. “The real question whether you’re ready.”

Severus grabbed his wrist and put his hand on his—very ready—erection. “What do you think?”

Draco smiled coyly. “Just making sure I’m not waking up for nothing.” He yawned, arching his body as he stretched, palming Severus as though it was a natural part of his movements.

Severus gave him a bruising kiss, forcing his tongue into Draco’s mouth, who responded languidly, gently stroking his face and slowly swirling their tongues together.

“Fucking tease,” Severus growled, coming to lie completely on top of him. “You started this. You wanted to stay for more.”

Draco widened his eyes innocently and thrust up again, grinding his erection against Severus’ hip. “Whatever made you think I don’t want those things?” There must have been something on his face because Severus paused, lust overlaid with confusion. Draco carefully arranged his expression to show nothing but his own lust mirrored back, as well as a small smirk. “See something you like?”

The confusion smoothed away, and Draco relaxed. Merlin, for a second there he could have sworn Severus saw—well, it didn’t matter, because he hadn’t.

“I see nothing more than an egotistical brat who happens to have a decent body and has acquired passable skills in bed.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “We’ve been over this. Treat me like shit and I’ll leave.”

“So you say,” Severus replied, licking a long line down his neck, and Draco shivered. “Yet you stay.”

“Only because I know you’re a lying bastard,” Draco shot back. “You think I’m gorgeous; erotic, I believe you said? And you know I’m _far_ beyond passable.”

“If only I could have the body without the mouth,” Severus mused, rocking against him, erections rubbing together. It was incredible, and Draco had to work to keep up the banter.

“You love my mouth,” Draco responded, licking his lips. “Wrapped around you. Sucking, swallowing, kissing. I’m perfect.” What, exactly, was he looking for? Severus to say it wasn’t just his mouth that was perfect but his whole body? His mind and heart and personality, everything that made him who he was? That he was hopelessly in love with him? It would be much better, much wiser to stop pushing and just focus on the sex.

“I enjoy your mouth when filled with anything but words,” Severus amended, moving his hips faster. Draco let out a sharp gasp as he felt their precome mixing.

“What makes you hate me so much when we’re in bed?” Draco asked, grabbing Severus’ arse and rutting against him firmly. He was straying into dangerous territory but _fuck_, how was he to be expected to think like this? And it was just friendly banter, right? Maybe? He moaned as he shifted and everything aligned perfectly.

“I feel exactly the same as I always do,” Severus replied, then let out a sharp gasp and stilled his hips. “Stop, give me a minute. I’m not going to come like a bloody teenager.”

Draco’s smirk was genuine. “I told you I turn you on. Tell me why you’re so mean to me and I’ll make sure my mouth is filled only with you.” As much as he wanted to hear the answer, his immediate interest in the question was flagging. This was the third time he’d made Severus so close he’d made them stop. Three out of three. Draco’s heart swelled with pride and other less useful things, like love. Better to bask in what he was _actually_ doing than pretend there was something more. Pretending was fine when he was alone, or when he had to in order to not burst into tears, but when he had something to be proud of, something real and hard and pressing against him, permanently imprinting the memory into his brain was a much better use of his time.

Severus got that look again, the one that meant he knew Draco was bullshitting him and wouldn’t stand for it. Draco continued to smirk and ignore it, instead moving his hips as much as he could. Nothing was wrong, he wasn’t lying about anything, and all he cared about was a good fuck.

“What are you hiding?” Severus challenged.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Nothing. Either let me go back to sleep or fuck me. Quit jerking me around.”

“Like this?” Severus asked softly, sliding a hand between their bodies and stroking Draco lightly. Draco let out a strangled groan, eyes fluttering closed and thrusting up, trying desperately to find more friction. “I thought you enjoyed being jerked around.”

“Shut up,” Draco moaned. “Harder. More.” Instead Severus let go, and he moaned again, this time in frustration. “What’re you doing?”

“Jerking you around,” Severus repeated with a smirk. “Besides, I am growing impatient. I had to wait for you to wake up, and on top of that suffer through your endless questions. I have never been a patient man, and you are testing my limits.”

A tiny bloom of hope. Why hadn’t Severus just woken him up if he was so desperate? He had said time and time again that Draco was only allowed to sleep in his bed as a nap so they—Severus, really—could recuperate. Why not wake him?

But no, enough of that. He could speculate all he wanted to later; now was for sex. “Ready when you are,” Draco said, wiggling his hips in encouragement. “How do you want me this time? Splayed out on my back? On your lap again?”

Severus slid off him, and Draco had to bite back another moan of disappointment. “On all fours,” he instructed, getting the lube from his bedside table. Draco did as he was told with no complaint, on his knees and elbows, resting his forehead on his arms. The position gave Severus a better view and angle than if he was on his hands, as well as giving Draco more support in the highly likely event of becoming too aroused to hold himself up.

“Hard and fast or slow and leisurely?” Draco asked. He had a strong preference for the latter, but he suspected Severus would disagree. It was just that they’d done hard and fast earlier, so a change of pace might be nice. And, well. Prolonging contact, feeling loved, all that nonsense.

“I have no need to rise early tomorrow,” Severus replied, sliding a single finger inside. Draco sighed in pleasure. “I see no reason not to extend our pleasure.”

Draco pushed back, trying to get more contact. He was pleasantly surprised at Severus’ suggestion, but this was agonizingly slow, hardly any friction at all. “Agreed,” he said, wiggling his arse. “Maybe, though, a little more?”

Severus chucked. “Impatient brat. Good things come to those who wait.”

Draco whimpered. “Didn’t you just say you aren’t patient? Well neither am—_ohh_.” He broke off into a groan as Severus flicked his prostate. “Merlin yes, there.”

“I don’t want you to come too soon,” Severus replied, stroking so gently, only ghosting by his prostate every now and then. “I find your repeat performances entertaining and useful, but I think now I’d rather draw it out, make you beg for it.”

Draco groaned. “Fuck yes. But one more finger. Please.”

“You need to work on your lasting time as well,” Severus mused, not changing his rhythm. “You are spoiled, and consider a multitude of orgasms equal to lasting. You should be able to do both, Draco—fuck long and come often.”

Draco whimpered again. “I, yeah, okay, just one more, please?”

Severus added a second finger, and Draco moaned, relaxing slightly now that _something_ was happening. “You feel so good, so tight and hot and eager. Don’t you want to last for me?”

“I do,” Draco said, thrusting up to meet his fingers. “Make you feel so good, promise.”

“I think I may buy you a cock ring,” Severus mused conversationally, twisting his fingers so they rammed against the bundle of nerves, and Draco shrieked. “I don’t want to have to worry if you are going to come to quickly. I would much rather sit back and enjoy myself, so to speak.”

“Yeah, okay,” Draco agreed, willing to agree to anything if it meant more sex. “Another finger.”

Severus sighed, and pulled out entirely, causing Draco to whimper in complaint. “It’s too late for such teasing,” he said, and Draco heard the sounds of him slicking himself. “Are you stretched enough? I do not wish to hurt you.”

“Anything for you,” Draco breathed, arching his arse up.

“Stop your flattery and answer my question,” Severus replied sharply. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Draco whined. “Yes, please fuck me. Please, Sev, please, you wanted me to beg and I’m begging, please take me, _please_, I’ll last as long as you want, just _please_.”

Quite suddenly Draco was filled entirely, Severus thrusting so quickly and smoothly he didn’t register anything other than mind numbing pleasure. His breath was knocked out of him with the force of his entry and all he could do was gasp desperately, trying to remember how to breathe as Severus took a moment to let him adjust, or maybe to stop himself from coming, Draco didn’t really know and didn’t care because Severus was inside him and filling him and nothing would ever be as good as this.

Severus moved against him, and the friction was enough to distract him from the fact that Severus was leaning over him, curling one arm around his chest and anchoring the other on his hip. He started thrusting into him, and Draco realized that this was a really bad position to test his staying power. For one thing, the angle was incredible, hitting his prostate and going deeper than he’d ever felt. More importantly, Severus was practically spooning him, coiled against him the way he was. It was almost like cuddling, and probably as close as he would get. When Severus snaked a hand up his chest and started toying with one of his nipples, he decided it was time to either say something or come.

“Sev, later,” Draco moaned, arching up against him, causing a delicious shift in pressure. “Lasting later, okay? So close. Please, fuck, tired and close and need you.”

Severus laughed throatily. “Thought you’d never ask.” He rocked back up so he was on his knees, losing the full body contact in favor for grabbing Draco’s hips and slamming in as hard as he could. Draco let out a scream of pleasure, head dropping forward onto his arms—good foresight, saved him from completely collapsing onto the bed—and pushing back, meeting Severus stroke for stroke. He was so close, right on the edge, holding himself back so he could come with Severus, knowing it would make him happy and impressed. He wrapped a hand around himself yet again; Severus was right, a cock ring would really help things along.

“Can you come without being touched?” Severus growled, snapping his hips forward as fast and deep as possible.

Draco groaned in reply. “Course.”

“Then stop touching yourself,” Severus ordered.

“Can’t,” Draco gasped out. His entire body was rocking with Severus, every movement shooting through him like a live wire. “Gonna come.”

“Yes,” Severus hissed, speeding up, which Draco hadn’t thought possible. “Come for me, tighten for me.”

Draco started moaning again and couldn’t stop. He dropped his hand, forced himself to last a few more thrusts, and erupted. He screamed Severus’ name, and as he continued to move, continued to slam into him and grind against his prostate, screams turned to shrieks but still his name, always his name, because it was always him, now and until the end of time. He was shaking and spurting and flushed and sweaty and then Severus’ thrusts turned erratic and he was gone too. He tightened his grip on his hips so hard it was almost too much but it didn’t matter because Draco was being filled completely, and Severus moaned something that sounded suspiciously like his name and then Draco collapsed entirely and everything was gone.

**7**

Once he was conscious again, Draco got out of bed on his own with no prompting. He could feel the part of himself he left behind ripping away as he stood leaving a glaring hole, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He went into the sitting room without a word, wincing as he put on his sweatpants and jersey. All dressed up and nowhere to go.

Severus’ voice floated out of the bedroom. “How much work do you have left this weekend?”

Draco blinked, staring blankly at the wall of bookcases in front of him. “Um, I dunno. A few classes. Why?”

“I expect to see you tomorrow at eight,” Severus said. “It would behoove you to finish your work before you come over.”

Draco couldn’t move. His feet were planted firmly to the floor. His brain had screeched to a halt. It was possible his heart stopped pounding and his lungs stopped working as well but he couldn’t tell because his brain wasn’t working.

“That was not an invitation to stay in my quarters until then,” Severus added icily.

“Okay, fine, sorry,” Draco said, snapping out of his thoughts, or lack thereof. “I’m leaving. See you tomorrow.”

“Goodbye, Draco.”

Draco stormed out. Being complimented and insulted at the same time should have been something he was used to, especially from Severus, but this took it to an entirely new level. Everything was just so. So fucked up. In the best. And worst. Way.

He decided not to think about it, especially not now. It was the middle of the night, he’d just been shagged out of his mind, and he was exhausted. Tomorrow, maybe, if he had time in between homework and—well, being Severus’ booty call. That was flattering.

Except for how it sort of was.

But only in the most pathetic of ways that involved Draco never, ever thinking those thoughts ever again because being someone’s booty call was _not_ a good thing and _not_ something to be treasured and _nothing like that whatsoever_.

He’d have to set up some rules, though. If he was going to be nothing more than a pathetic booty call, he wouldn’t be berated and insulted. He wouldn’t let Severus dictate every detail about their relationship. If Severus was going to demand him whenever he pleased, Draco would demand him right back, and at least once in the middle of the night the day before Severus had an early class just to prove that he could. If Severus decided he could only sleep in his bed if they were napping, Draco would insist on morning sex so he could spend the night. And Severus would _not_ speak down to him anymore.

Draco went through the passageway to the dorms, snuck through the common room as quickly and quietly as possible, and crawled into bed before anyone could see him. How he looked didn’t exactly go along with his newfound resolutions.

Resolutions that would no doubt go out the window as soon as he tried them and Severus laughed in his face, but still. He could try. And, for now, pretend he would stick to his guns and not fold just so he could continue to have meaningless sex with someone he was in love with.

Draco fell asleep wondering at what precise point he had lost all his self-respect. It hadn’t started off like this; he was the one who had initially demanded sex. He still hadn’t figured it out by the time he finally drifted off.

**8**

Things didn’t go exactly as planned.

For one thing, Draco didn’t finish his homework. He spent a long time _looking_ at his homework, but all he could think about was Severus and what he should say and how he was going to hold his resolve. He was also going to keep a closer eye on what he said, regardless of whether Severus wanted him to talk during sex. He’d slipped up so many times now it was not only embarrassing but petrifying, though he thought he probably got away with it. Finally, he wasn’t going to let himself get anymore involved than he already was. Given that was impossible, he was no longer allowed to pretend during sex. That was as close as he could get.

Not putting up with Severus berating him lasted until the door was closed.

“I see you are looking especially fine this evening,” Severus said dryly.

Draco glared at him. “I was doing potions, _Professor_. It was humid, and my hair got—ah, less than perfect.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it. “I knew there was a high likelihood of splatter due to the capsaicin, so I wore old jeans. Listen, I need—”

“You did not leave adequate time to change?” Severus asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“No, I didn’t think you’d care, considering how quickly I’ll be naked,” Draco replied. “As I was saying, I need—”

“I assume from your hair you did not have time to shower,” Severus interrupted. “Will I be covered in capsaicin myself? My bed? I am not looking forward to hot pepper in unexpected places.”

“Shut up!” Draco snapped. “I need to talk to you!”

“Not now,” Severus said dismissively. “I have better uses for you.”

Draco gave up as Severus started unbuttoning his shirt. He was miffed, and Severus taking off his own clothes only made it worse, but he was also incapable of talking while watching Severus undress him.

The sex was, unfortunately, really fucking good. Draco would have been so much happier if the novelty started to wear off, or if it turned out Severus wasn’t a good lay but no, of course not. He came three times, which was probably too many, but it wasn’t his fault if Severus kept working him up. And fuck, ending the night with a blowjob was _not_ something to complain about, no matter what the circumstances.

Afterwards, before Severus could kick him out, Draco spoke up again, though it was more of a breathy gasp than anything authoritative.

“I want morning sex,” he said. “I like morning sex and I want it.”

“I have class in the morning,” Severus replied. “As do you.”

“If you demand me at your convenience, I demand you at mine,” Draco said firmly, starting to catch his breath. “We’ll nap, and then in the morning—”

“No,” Severus interrupted. “Get out of my bed and back to your dorm. If you insist on morning sex, I insist on a weekend. No naps beforehand; you may come over no earlier than six and if you expect another go, I suppose you may sleep afterwards. Briefly.”

Draco’s heart shriveled. “What better way to start off the week?” he challenged. “Morning sex. Mondays need a better reason to exist beyond someone’s idiotic idea that the school week should start then.”

“Tomorrow night at seven,” Severus said. “And only if you finish your work beforehand.”

“Like I did tonight?” Draco asked, snorting disdainfully. “As if.”

“I’m aware,” Severus replied sharply. “If you had finished your homework you would _actually_ smell of capsaicin and your clothes would have been stained red, not a grimy yellow.”

Draco flinched. “Fine, but tomorrow morning.”

“No, tomorrow night,” Severus said. “If anything. If I hand out detention or acquire too much grading, there won’t be time. I’ll owl you at dinner if I’m available.”

Draco flushed, teeth clenched. “If you keep treating me like this I’m not coming back at all.”

“Fine,” Severus replied indifferently. “I’m sure you have a plethora of admirers able to fulfill your needs as skillfully as I.”

“I managed just fine before you,” Draco snapped.

Severus shrugged. “If you say so. Now get out of my bed. I have an early class. As do you.”

Draco dressed quickly and angrily, trying to remember his other resolutions. He was still going to be berated, he wasn’t going to set any times for getting together, and he wouldn’t be having morning sex as a guise for spending the night. He’d broken his rule about pretending the moment Severus kissed him, as well as his rule about not getting further involved. Once again he’d said too much during sex; no accidental declarations of love this time, but there had been a lot of _only yous_ and _I’m yours’_ and a particularly unfortunate _never stop, don’t leave, good lord please don’t ever stop_.

Draco was lying half under the bed trying to reach his shirt and wondering how, exactly, it got there when he worked up just the tiniest bit of courage.

“You never answered me yesterday,” he said, voice muffled by the large piece of furniture over his head. “Why are you such a bastard in the bedroom?”

“I did answer you,” Severus replied. “I asked what you were hiding. Use a bloody summoning charm, Draco. I’m tired and watching your idiocy has lost its charm.”

Draco cursed and summoned his shirt. “You answer first,” he said, wiggling out from under the bed and pulling it on. “Namely because I’m not hiding anything, and I’m fairly certain you won’t tell me if you think you aren’t getting anything in return.”

“For Merlin’s sake, get out,” Severus snapped. “I’m not bloody lying to you, I am indeed exhausted.

“Maybe you should let me spend the night if you want to go to sleep as soon as I tire you out,” Draco retorted.

“You declared that we would be sleeping together with no consequences beyond sex,” Severus replied.

Draco froze. What. What? What was he implying? That things _could_ be different? This was not the time to ask, never was the time to ask, now was the time for a blithe comment that meant nothing. And quickly, before Severus suspected something. “If I had known I was cockblocking myself from a proper afterglow I would have phrased myself differently,” he said. “Pray tell, Severus, how can I remedy the situation?”

“Perhaps if I got a good night’s sleep I would feel more charitable,” Severus replied in the tone of voice he used when a student was being particularly daft.

“Fucking arse,” Draco muttered, heading for the door. “I’m leaving! Though I’d like to point out if you’d get over yourself and just let me stay, you’d be fast asleep by now!”

Draco ended up not sleeping at all that night. He did, in fact, have a ton of homework to do, and once he was finally in bed, all he could think was how much he hated himself. He was pathetic. Idiotic. Pathetic. Needy. Pathetic. Deluded. Pathetic. Oh, and pathetic.

He did not do well on no sleep. He spent the day cranky, irritable and unable to focus on class or his friends or, really, anything at all beyond self-pity. That was another problem with being tired, his self-esteem plummeted. Given its average state these days, by dinner he decided he was living in a tragical Shakespearian play. It would have been purely tragic were his despair not so darkly humorous, and it was Shakespearian because only a Muggle would be able to come up with something as ridiculous as his life.

He did feel a little better when a note landed in front of him.

_My quarters at seven._

_Finish your work first, your performance in class was atrocious._

Draco told his friends he was going to bed early and left. He faked his way through the rest of his work, which wasn’t too bad because he had faked his way through most of his work before dinner. After a cursory look at his appearance—slightly muddled but not too bad—he headed over to Severus’, arriving roughly at seven. Punctuality was one of the first things to go when he didn’t get enough sleep.

“You are early,” Severus remarked as he let Draco in. “I am not done grading. Wait for me on the couch; you have access to my library, as always.”

“Think I’ll just rest for a few,” Draco replied, trudging over to the couch and collapsing. He hadn’t realized how comfortable it was before now. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, just to help with the stinging and watering.

Draco woke up in the dark, curled under a throw. He blinked blearily; he knew he was in Severus’ quarters, he’d woke up in his living room enough, but when had he fallen asleep, and why was he under the blanket? Clearly he hadn’t meant to fall asleep—he was here for sex, not sleeping. So that meant Severus must have covered him. Draco smiled to himself for a moment before getting up, stretching, and making his way to Severus’ room.

“I’m awake,” he announced quietly. “Awake and energized and ready for sex.”

Severus mumbled something in his sleep.

“Wake up,” Draco said slightly louder, sliding his blazer off and dropping it onto the floor. “Severus. Sex.”

“Go away.”

“Sex,” Draco repeated, unbuttoning his shirt. “I want sex.”

“And I want to sleep,” Severus grumbled. “Class in the morning. Get out.”

“You called me here,” Draco snapped.

“You fell asleep on my couch,” Severus replied. “You lost the privilege of sex when you failed to wake by midnight. Once again: get out.”

Draco stormed out before he started crying. Not that Severus would see, but he was known for his exceptional hearing, and while Draco tended to cry quietly, he probably wouldn’t be quiet enough.


	3. "You love me."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco finally gets what he's wanted since the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I've had a really rough six months or so, but I'm finally doing better. That said, I have a migraine right now and there's a decent chance I've missed some edits, but I tried. Anyway, enjoy!

A tradition was born. More often than not Draco would receive a note at dinner detailing the time and a thinly veiled insult. He would go to Severus’ quarters, they’d fuck, and then he’d be kicked out. There were no answered questions, he wasn’t treated any better, and Severus refused to let him spend the night.

Draco gave up entirely.

He loved Severus, he hated himself, and that was that.

Severus kissing him, though, that was enough. Especially when he was pressed against the door with Severus’ erection pressing against his hip and his own cock painfully hard. Everything melted away under his lips and hands, it was all so pathetic but it didn’t matter because, in this moment, he could pretend.

Severus moved to his neck, leaving bite marks in his wake, each one causing Draco to moan. He reached his shoulder, kissing just above his shirt before moving back up. Draco turned his head for a kiss, but Severus moved away.

“As this is the last time,” Severus started, lips moving against Draco’s ear, “I will let you dictate the evening.”

Draco had thought he was broken before. Clearly he had been wrong. What’s more, apparently he hadn’t given up, otherwise he wouldn’t be feeling quite so crushed and defeated.

“Excuse me?” he squeaked.

“Your N.E.W.T.s start on Monday,” Severus replied. “I won’t be the cause of failure. After your exams you will be graduating, and I will no longer be down the hall.”

There was nothing left but emptiness. How had this not occurred to him before? It was so obvious, right in front of his face, and he hadn’t noticed.

“You’re right,” Draco said numbly, pushing him away. “I need to study. Last time was our last time.”

Severus gave him an odd look, one Draco didn’t understand at all. “I see,” he replied cryptically. “Bring your study materials here.”

Draco’s eyes jerked to meet Severus’. “Pardon?”

Severus frowned. “You are not listening tonight. Study here.”

“Why?” Draco asked bluntly, not expecting an answer. Severus never answered him.

In a move so uncharacteristic Draco nearly didn’t believe it, Severus stepped forward and rested a hand on his face, cupping his cheek. “I would prefer spending time with you to not,” he said softly.

Draco thought he might cry. “I. Uh, yeah, okay. I’ll be right back.” He got his things and returned in record time; being unable to think certainly sped things along. He settled onto the couch, took out his Charms book and tried as hard as possible to focus. It was important, much more important than Severus—he was planning on working in the Department of Mysteries after school, doing well on his N.E.W.T.s was not an option—and yet, like so many other times, all he could think about was Severus.

At least this time he had something good to think about. Simultaneously awful and good, but at least there was some good. He might not have sex with Severus again, but Severus wanted to spend time with him. Why he couldn’t have said something earlier Draco didn’t know, but at least he had said something. Better late than never. Or something.

“Focus, Draco.”

Draco hadn’t realized he had let his gaze wander, and turned back at his book. He forced himself to focus. N.E.W.T.s. Not Severus, but N.E.W.T.s. Charms, in fact. Charms on Monday. Two days. Charms N.E.W.T. in two days.

That was enough to get him to focus.

He wasn’t exactly sure how long it took to finish with Charms, only that by the time he declared himself finished he actually felt prepared, roughly speaking. He closed his book, tossed it onto the coffee table, leaned back and sighed. N.E.W.T.s, and he wasn’t going to fuck Severus ever again. He would never sleep with him, have sex, or make love. It was over, all over, and he had failed.

Draco Malfoy did not fail.

Except, apparently, this time.

He tried to look on the bright side. Once he graduated he wouldn’t be seeing Severus every day. They wouldn’t be fucking. He’d be free to move on, to get him out of his heart and mind. Draco would throw himself into his work, whatever exactly it was. His father had secured him a position as long as he did well on his N.E.W.T.s, but despite his interview over Easter weekend and guaranteed job, he still didn’t know what he’d be doing. Presumably, though, whatever it was would be engaging. And maybe, if he was really lucky, there would be someone attractive working alongside him, and maybe he could move on and fall in love with them.

The couch shifted, and Draco turned to see that Severus had sat next to him. Getting over Severus, right. That was absolutely possible.

“Finished Charms,” Draco said.

“Here,” Severus replied, handing him a mug. “Tea with Relaxation Draught mixed in. It will help.”

Draco took the cup and took a small sip. He was pleasantly surprised. “Jasmine?” he asked.

Severus snorted. “I’ve known you your entire life, Draco. I know your favorite tea.”

Draco’s stomach twisted. Even if there was someone attractive at the Ministry, they wouldn’t know his favorite tea. He quietly sipped what Severus had given him, the taste of the Relaxation Draught adding a mild raspberry undertone to the jasmine. It was delicious and, he had to admit, did relax him. He didn’t feel good, per se, but he was no longer certain the world was ending. It was likely, perhaps, but not inevitable.

“Try not to worry,” Severus said, and Draco looked at him in astonishment. Severus Snape was not known to be a comforting man. “You are well prepared. You have nothing to be concerned about.”

Draco smiled wanly, deciding that was a better reaction than staring in shock. “Yeah, maybe. Father can always pull strings if he has to.”

Severus glared at him. “Grow up.”

“Shove off,” Draco replied evenly. “I’m not saying I’ll need it. It takes the edge off, knowing I have a backup plan.”

“Are you so desperate to work for the Ministry?” Severus asked. “I would not think you suited for a job so confining. You do not enjoy following orders.”

“A bit late to bring it up,” Draco replied, miffed. “I’m graduating in two weeks and I’ve already got the job. Besides, what else would I do? Father might still have some pull at the Ministry, but the Malfoy name is not as respected as it once was. I can hardly count on a position elsewhere.”

“You could always teach,” Severus said as if it was nothing. “Given your particular expertise in the area, I believe you would be an exceptional candidate for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Horace would enjoy returning to retirement, and the students would certainly benefit from having a professor who was proficient in the field.”

Draco did gape, but he felt that appropriate. “I—no, I’m not. I’ll be eighteen next fall. Parents won’t want a Malfoy teaching. McGonagall would never hire me.” He had a revelation, and his eyes widened in hurt, angry shock. “You just don’t want to lose your fuck buddy! You couldn’t care less about my future or what’ll make me happy, you just want to keep your lay.”

“Come off it, even you cannot be so egotistical,” Severus replied irritably. “Of course I care about you. I would enjoy your continued presence, but I made the suggestion purely out of consideration for your wellbeing.”

Everything he’d been repressing since they’d started sleeping together was building. The questions he’d stopped asking, the expectations he’d pushed away, it was all back. In spades. “You bloody liar!” Draco exploded. “You hate me, you’ve made that perfectly clear over the past four months. I’m your bloody whore, that’s it. You won’t talk to me, you won’t treat me like a fucking human being, you won’t let me stay the night even when we’re both so exhausted it physically _hurts_ to get out of bed. You won’t even admit I’m a good lay so for all I know you think I’m shit, but you keep telling me to come back, Merlin knows why. You want me here so you can fuck me, that’s it. You didn’t bring it up before now because you were hoping I’d be so stressed from exams I’d jump at the chance of staying in a known situation. Plus you gave me the fucking Relaxation Draught so I’d be amenable. You’re a prick and I hate you.” Draco grabbed his Charms book, shoved it into his bag, and got up to leave.

“Sit down,” Severus demanded, using the voice that left no room for argument.

“No,” Draco snapped, arguing with that voice for what might have been the first time.

Severus reached out and grabbed his wrist, forcing him down. Draco was about to protest when Severus’ lips descended on his. He moaned instead. He was absolutely certain they were done, that there would never be anything so much as a hug between them, and now Severus was kissing him for all he was worth. He was doing everything Draco loved, and Draco knew he was hallucinating this part, but he could have sworn he felt love in the gesture.

“Stop being an idiot,” Severus said, breaking the kiss but leaning his forehead on Draco’s, keeping them impossibly close. “I only want what is best for you.”

“Then why did you just kiss me?” Draco asked miserably. Suddenly he couldn’t wait for graduation, couldn’t wait to be away from the man who was causing him so much pain. “Y’know, I was feeling good. Confident. And then you had to go and give me that bloody tea and go on about jobs and try to get me to fuck you.”

“Stop talking,” Severus said kindly, and Draco decided he would never understand anything ever again and he should just give up. “You are clearly too tired to think clearly. Go to bed.”

Of course Severus had no idea those particular three words would make him so desolate, but of course they did. “Fine,” Draco said wearily, standing and slinging his book bag over his shoulder. “Since we’re done and all, I don’t really know when I’ll see you next. Potions N.E.W.T. is a week from tomorrow. Then, I guess.”

“Stay here,” Severus said.

“I’m not in the mood to sleep on a couch,” Draco replied dryly. “I’d rather be comfortable.”

“Then sleep with me,” Severus said. “You go on about it enough, I might as well give in.”

“I don’t want your pity,” Draco replied through clenched teeth. Turning him down burned terribly, but for the first time since this started, he was doing what was good and healthy for himself. He found it to be overrated. “I can take care of myself, thanks.”

“When have you known me to make an offer out of pity?” Severus asked sharply. “If I pitied you I would have offered months ago.”

“You’re _giving in_,” Draco echoed irritably. “What the hell do you expect me to think?”

“I kissed you,” Severus stated. “I kissed you and I am opening my bed to you, both without any expectation of sex. I expect you to think cleverly.”

Draco nearly fainted. He managed to stay upright but he did drop his bag. That couldn’t mean what he thought it meant. There had to be another explanation. Clearly he wasn’t clever otherwise he’d understand and wouldn’t be about to fall over. Another reason. What other reason? There had to be another reason. Think cleverly, it was time to think cleverly. No room for pretending, just thinking cleverly.

The more cleverly he thought the further his stomach dropped.

“You expect me to think you’ve known me my whole life and you care about me, at least to some extent, and you’re trying to make me feel better,” Draco said dully.

“Not entirely incorrect,” Severus replied, and once again Draco gave up on understanding. “Now really, Draco. Let’s go to bed and get some sleep. You’re overtired and fighting the Relaxation Draught. You need to rest.”

Draco’s stomach was all kinds of fucked up, his heart was twisted and fractured, his brain had been jinxed with a nifty _Petrificus Totalus_ he hadn’t noticed being cast, and so all he could do was lick his dry lips with his dry tongue and head towards the bedroom. Severus extinguished the lights in the sitting room, followed him into the bedroom, and started a low burning fire, just enough to be comforting. As Draco was still unable to think he just stood there, watching as Severus stripped down to his pants and went into the bathroom.

Did—could Severus possibly—was there even a chance—were his feelings returned? After all this time, could Severus actually love him?

Draco hadn’t the slightest idea.

Severus was clearly sleeping in his pants. Did that mean he should as well, or should he keep more clothes on?

Draco hadn’t the slightest idea.

Teaching had never occurred to him, but it was starting to seem possible. The more he got used to the idea the better it sounded. But was it _actually _reasonable?

Draco hadn’t the slightest idea.

Severus came out of the bathroom and gave Draco an odd look before asking, “Do you intend on sleeping standing up while fully dressed?”

Draco hadn’t the slightest idea.

“Um.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “You need sleep,” he said firmly, walking over to Draco and taking off his blazer before starting on his buttons. “Let the potion work.”

“Okay,” Draco replied obediently. He let himself be undressed, and that was very nice because it was Severus and not nearly as nice because it wasn’t sexual and it wasn’t out of love, but ultimately maybe nice because Draco _hadn’t the slightest idea what was going on_.

When he was down to his pants Severus gave him a chaste kiss Draco didn’t understand. “Come on,” he said, pushing Draco towards the bed. “Get in. Lie down. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Okay,” Draco repeated. He had feelings and emotions and a will of his own, it was just that none of those things were available at the moment.

As soon as he was lying under the covers they came flooding back. He was miserable and heartbroken and confused as fuck because Severus didn’t make any goddamned sense and all he actually knew was that there was no way he loved him. The bit about his stomach and his heart and his brain, that was all still true. He still loved Severus and he still hated himself and he hated himself even more for hating himself because he was Draco Malfoy and he was proud and egotistical and arrogant and he did not bloody well hate himself.

Then everything he thought he knew—which was nothing—melted away. Severus scooted over to him and wrapped him in his arms, curling around him and spooning.

“Sleep,” he said quietly, and kissed Draco just below his ear.

“I love you,” Draco said, and _fuck_ that was not supposed to happen. “I mean, y’know.” The addendum did not help in the slightest, but he couldn’t think of any other words to retract the statement, and then Severus was talking.

“I do know,” he replied, and there was something in his voice that made Draco extraordinarily nervous. “I know far more than you believe I do.”

Draco could feel himself shrinking and withering away. Why on earth was he here in bed with Severus if he knew that he loved him? His entire body was aching with need and love and _need_ and _love_ and _what was going on_? He was on the brink of tears, he knew that, and he knew he was absolutely not allowed to cry. It was just that he had built himself around Severus with the knowledge that he was making himself miserable and now, now Severus was deeply ingrained into his heart and everything was changing or maybe _nothing_ was changing. It had only been okay because Draco knew what was going on and he knew what he was doing to himself. But. Now?

“What do you think you know?” Draco asked carefully.

“Does it need saying?” Severus asked.

“Yes,” Draco replied firmly, ignoring the very large part of himself that wanted to let the matter drop. “Yes, it absolutely does.”

Severus kissed beneath his ear again, and Draco shivered. “You have asked many a question since we started this,” he said. “But since you are leaving, and since we are in bed together as you have wanted, I feel I should answer. I never meant to hurt you. You took me by surprise and my default reaction is cruelty. Once our relationship was established, I believed changing my behavior would change what we had. I assumed all you wanted was sex and my behavior would have no effect on you. By the time I realized that was not the case, it was…”

Silent tears were sliding down Draco’s face. They were finally having this conversation and Severus was telling him outright that he didn’t feel the same way and he had known how Draco felt and continued to fuck him, using him the whole time. What’s more, Severus felt the need to say this while they were spooning in bed together. Severus couldn’t even find the words to tell him how little he cared.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said, voice remarkably clear.

“For what?” Severus asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

“I don’t know,” Draco replied. “For loving you. For asking you to have sex with me. For being in your bed. Whatever you want me to be sorry for.” It occurred to him he would have to renounce his family name because no Malfoy would ever say such a thing.

“Draco, no,” Severus said. “You have nothing to apologize for. It is my fault for not being clear with you.”

“Can you not?” Draco asked quietly. “Please don’t say it. I don’t care how pathetic I sound, I _am_ pathetic, I know that, so just please don’t.”

In the short pause that followed, Draco distinctly heard Severus respond with a thousand different answers. When he did speak, Draco was sure he misheard.

“You do not wish to hear that I love you?”

In fact, he was so sure he misheard, he didn’t bother getting worked up. “Sorry, what?”

A light kiss where his neck met his shoulder. “I love you.”

Draco’s heart started to clench. “No you don’t. Not the way—rather, not how I—ah, uh.”

“I do,” Severus replied, kissing his jawbone.

“No,” Draco repeated, and now he was getting worked up, all his muscles tightening simultaneously, tears stopping out of shock, hands shaking. “I don’t—no.”

“Yes,” Severus said, kissing his cheek.

His entire body was shaking now, not just his hands, and his blood had been replaced with lightening, and time had slowed to a ridiculous crawl that sped by. “I love you,” Draco said again, stupidly. “Sev, I’m in love with you.”

“I know,” Severus replied calmly, kissing his cheekbone. “I love you, too.”

The Relaxation Draught reacted strangely to the adrenaline coursing through his veins and everything felt swimmy, like he was moving underwater and looking at everything through a fish tank. Lightening in a fish tank. He thought that didn’t make sense but couldn’t put his finger on why.

“Why—? Wait, no.” Draco took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? Why did you keep treating me like shit? Why did it take so long for you to let me stay over? What—I don’t…”

“I am your professor,” Severus said, kissing his temple. “I was waiting until you graduated. I thought you knew; the past few weeks, perhaps as much as a month or two, you stopped picking fights and stopped badgering me. I can see now how wrong I was, and I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Draco.”

“You—you thought I…” Draco trailed off again, and let out a nearly hysterical giggle. “Fuck, no. I didn’t know, not in the slightest. I thought—”

“I know,” Severus interrupted, kissing his hairline. “I am sorry, and I love you.”

“You love me,” Draco repeated, finally starting to wrap his head around the idea. His heart was blossoming, blooming into something too big to fit in his chest. He could barely breathe. Eternity swirled through his head, lightening strikes making it impossible to think.

“Yes,” Severus said, placing a soft, fluttering kiss on his closed eye.

“How long?” Draco asked. Maybe if he had more information it might start to feel real.

“How long does it take to brew an Elixir of Kalpa?” Severus asked, kissing just next to Draco’s lips.

“I—uh,” Draco stammered, trying to follow the sudden change in conversation. “Kalpa, um, nobody knows, right? Perpetually?” He could feel Severus’ lips curl up in a smile against his own.

“Indeed,” he said, finally kissing his mouth, though it was so light and fleeting Draco thought it hardly counted.

“But—” Draco tried to protest, only he couldn’t think of exactly what he was protesting. Gathering his courage, and realizing he was still shaking, which made it much harder, he rolled over in Severus’ arms so he could see him. He was smiling, eyes warm and inviting and sparkling. Draco had never seen him look so relaxed or so beautiful. He had dreamed of this Severus. Literally dreamed about him, stealing kisses in the hallways, shared showers after late-night brewing sessions—or other late-night activities, depending on the dream—, cuddling together. Which they were doing now. His Severus, his dreams, here in his arms.

Merlin, the cliché was disgusting.

“So we—” Draco’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “You and I, are we—?”

Severus stroked his cheek and Draco’s eyes slipped closed. “No.” The split second following that single word was perhaps the worst moment in Draco’s life. Everything was gone, inverted into a void never to be seen again. “Not until you graduate. Two weeks, and then you are mine.”

Draco leaned into his touch. “I’ve been yours since I can remember,” he replied softly. “It’s the other way, you being mine…” He wasn’t capable of complete sentences, but at least Severus understood what he was saying and didn’t seem to mind.

“I am yours,” he said. “In two weeks.”

Draco giggled quietly, still that edge of hysteria creeping in. “Now,” he replied. “Right now. Fuck two weeks, we’ll keep it a secret until then, I need you now.”

“You need to sleep now,” Severus corrected. “I am here and I will be here in the morning.” He kissed Draco, lingering just slightly longer than their last kiss. “Sleep.”

“Tell me now,” Draco insisted, though he found he couldn’t exactly open his eyes. The lightening was gone, replaced with a flood of _calm_ and _peace_ and _love_ and _okay_. “I’m impatient, I want to hear it now.”

“Impertinent brat,” Severus replied, though he was still smiling. “Have you not been listening? I already told you. Over and over again.”

Draco leaned up for a kiss, twining a hand in his hair and holding them together. There were no tongues, no deepening or stoking of fires, just a kiss that was anything but _just a kiss_. “I love you,” Draco said, finally releasing him. “I love you and I’m yours now, and again in two weeks, and again in forever.” That should have been too much, but he thought maybe it might not be.

“Pushy, insubordinate fool,” Severus said quietly. “For the final time, I love you. Everything I am, everything I have to offer, the entirety of myself is yours. Now shut your insolent mouth and get to sleep. You have to study tomorrow, and I won’t be turned down again. You must learn to budget your time better.”

“As if I could say no to you.” Draco snuggled further into Severus’ arms, just on the edge of sleep. “G’night, Sev.”

Severus kissed the top of his head. “Sleep well, my Draco.”

Draco broke into a grin. _His Draco_ indeed.

**10**

“—just because you’re older than me does not mean—”

“It does mean that I have a wider knowledge base than you and—”

“—in _potions_, which has nothing to do with—”

“In _everything_, Draco, which is why—”

“You’re a stuck-up, old-fashioned, antiquated anachronism who’s outlived his usefulness,” Draco yelled, and even through the all-encompassing red haze surrounding him he felt rather proud at his vocabulary. “You know why—”

“At least I’m not an insufferable, childish brat who thinks he owns the school just because—”

“You know why Minerva hired me?” Draco interrupted. “Because I _am_ young! New blood, she said. Injecting youth and vitality into an otherwise _old_ and _stuffy_ school staffed by _old_ and _stuffy _wizards who think—”

“Wizards who have been teaching here for _twenty years_, including serving as _headmaster_—”

Draco scoffed. “Right, because you were just so effectual. You’re a bloody dungeon bat who everyone hates and you’re just jealous because—”

“I would never be jealous of you!” Severus exploded. “I am sick of your pettiness and impertinence. Get out!”

“I was leaving anyways!” Draco yelled, grabbing his bag and storming out of their quarters, slamming the door behind himself. He stormed through the dungeons, footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. School was starting in a week, and Draco would have enjoyed his last few days of peace and quiet were there any peace and quiet to be had.

He snorted to himself. He remembered the days of peace and quiet. There had been peace and quiet last summer, while he prepared for his first year as the youngest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in two hundred and fifty three years. Once he and the students had grown adjusted to his newfound position, there had been peace and quiet. The day before Valentine’s Day and the morning of had been as far from peaceful and quiet as humanely possible, but they settled down again when Draco admitted fighting over whether their anniversary was on Valentine’s Day or June fourth was stupid, especially since Severus finally conceded he was right and their real anniversary was in June. Aside from giving O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, the rest of the school year had been peace and quiet. This summer, their second summer together, was peace and quiet.

The last week or two, not so much.

It started off with an owl from Draco’s parents asking how he was doing, but the spaces between the lines were filled with accusations and resentment, and it had put Draco in a foul mood. The fact that Severus refused to get angry as well only made it worse. He had been entirely logical, stating that his parents still loved him and always would and it was just their way of looking out for him, and Draco _knew_ that and didn’t want to hear it.

Several days after Draco’s owl, Severus had received one from Harry Potter of all people. He refused to talk about it, wouldn’t even show Draco the parchment before burning it. After several more days of persistent nagging Draco finally got him to open up; apparently the letter had been an attempt at reconciliation. Harry had thanked Severus for everything he had done, apologized for his part in their relationship, and asked if they could meet for tea to talk. Draco didn’t understand why this was something to be upset about rather than laugh over, to which Severus took personal offense. Several _more_ days were spent in a tense, passive-aggressive silence until Severus finally burst out that he had been in love with Lily Evans, and that spawned a whole host of unwanted emotions and conversations.

Then suddenly school was about to start and Draco had to redo his curriculum entirely due to the continued trials, new laws, Auror advances, and everything else the war had spawned. That was what this fight had been about—Draco snapped at Severus because he was trying to decide if advanced concealment charms and how to disable them should be taught in fifth or sixth year, only Severus had just been asking if he wanted a cup of tea, and took personal offense at Draco’s snide remark about where exactly he could put his tea.

And so it had escalated.

Draco let himself into the restricted section of the library. He loved the restricted section. It was always quiet and peaceful, so long as he didn’t touch the wrong book and set the whole shelves screaming for hours. He curled himself into the comfortable chair he kept in the far back corner, transfigured a spare bit of parchment into a desk, and took out his course planning materials.

Fifth year would mean another new subject on the O.W.L.s, making both his and his students’ lives difficult.

Sixth year pushed back potentially life saving lessons and left less time for teaching further advances.

Draco let his mind drift back to Severus, as if he could help himself. Everything had been going so well. They fought sometimes, of course, but no more or less than any other couple. After each fight Severus would sit them down and talk everything out until they were more bored than angry and the situation resolved, more often than not followed by makeup sex. Draco had no doubt that would happen again with this fight, but—but—

But he was _disappointing his parents_ which he simply _did not do_ and all of this curriculum planning was _way_ over his head and he was _jealous_, really bloody jealous, of a fucking _dead person_.

Only it was more than pure jealousy, although he was jealous. It was that Severus had never told him about Lily. As long as Draco had known him, he had been quietly, reservedly gay. Not flamboyant, but most certainly not in the closet. So what was this business about devoting his entire life to a woman? A _dead_ woman who never loved him in the first place? Severus had explained it to him as best he could but the conversation still left Draco confused and inadequate. He supposed he understood why Severus hadn’t told him before—it wasn’t exactly something that could be worked into conversation at the drop of a hat—but it stung, and it opened doors. What else was Severus hiding from him?

…and, well, was he really over Lily? After spending all that time devoted to her, how could he just get up and walk away? What’s more, Severus insisted he loved Draco long before they got together and if that was true, how exactly did that overlap? Was he lying to placate him? Was their entire relationship just Severus placating him?

Draco’s stomach clenched angrily. It couldn’t be. Severus loved him. He didn’t say it a lot, but he wasn’t the type who would. It wasn’t like he never said it, though, just not all the time. But that didn’t mean he was lying when he did say it, or that those times were any less special. In fact, they were even better, because they were so rare.

Unless they were rare because Severus didn’t love him.

Like his father had said.

Draco shook himself. That wasn’t fair. His father hadn’t said such a thing. He may have implied Severus was an emotionally unavailable wreck of a man, but he never outright _said_ he could never love Draco. Strictly speaking. He may have mentioned an upcoming gala thrown by the Greengrasses and how Astoria was such a nice, lovely, young woman who wasn’t scarred for life, maybe even in those exact words, but that didn’t mean anything. His father just wanted a proper relationship culminating in a proper marriage culminating in proper grandchildren. It wasn’t a real reflection on Severus, it was just—

Draco was rationalizing.

He turned back to the curriculum. School was starting in a week whether Severus loved him or not and being heartbroken was no excuse to be a shoddy professor, especially when it was only his second year teaching. He had been quite popular last year, at least once it sunk in that he was actually a professor and not a student, and actually on the good side and wasn’t a Death Eater, and he didn’t intend on ruining his reputation so early in his career. Severus or no Severus, he needed to focus. It didn’t matter that he was in the library because he had been kicked out of his rooms, what was important is that he was surrounded by peace and quiet and he needed to focus.

Draco decided he could start the anti-concealment charms with the fifth years. He’d have to redo the O.W.L. exam, but that wasn’t until June. Once that decision was made the rest of the curriculum fell into place, and he was nearly finished when he heard quiet footsteps and the telltale swish of Severus’ cloak several aisles over. He would want to talk. A lot. Draco wasn’t interested in talking, not until he could gather his thoughts into a more coherent sentence than “I’m afraid you’re still in love with your female schoolmate who’s been dead for twenty years because I just found out that your entire motive in the war was to fulfill her wishes” because that sounded pathetic, and Draco Malfoy was not pathetic.

Not since he and Severus had gotten together, anyway.

Not since he continued to grow up and out of his teenaged angst.

Not since the war was over and he was finally accepted as good.

The point was, Draco Malfoy was not pathetic and he wasn’t going to start a long conversation by blurting out all of his doubts and insecurities because he was Draco Malfoy and he did not have doubts and insecurities.

“Have you passed your block regarding your curriculum?” Severus asked softly, standing at the end of his aisle.

“Yeah,” Draco replied carefully, not looking up from his parchment. “I’m starting concealment charms fifth year.”

“Good.”

“Good because I made the right choice, or good because I made _your_ right choice?” Draco asked nastily, then let out a sigh. “Sorry. I’ve got a blinding headache.” Which was not untrue.

“I can handle an insult or two,” Severus replied, and Draco heard the small smile in his voice. “May I sit?”

Draco waved his wand, summoning a chair from the other side of the library. “Go ahead.” He watched out of the corner of his eye as Severus advanced and sat opposite him, hands folded neatly in his lap and watching Draco intently. “Give me a minute? I’m almost done with this bollocks.”

Severus nodded. “Of course.”

With Severus sitting there studying him it took significantly more than a minute, but eventually the work was done. Draco sent the syllabi to Madame Pince so she could draw up a textbook list, put away the rest of his things including the desk, which he turned back into a piece of parchment and shoved into his bag. He let out a quiet sigh and sat back, finally meeting Severus’ eyes. Dark and impenetrable. Was there love, or just his own desire seeking out what wasn’t there?

“You may begin,” Severus said after a few minutes. “You threw the first words, it is fitting you explain yourself first.”

Draco didn’t want to explain himself. In all honesty, now that Severus was here, in front of him, looking at him, tears started to gather, and he was deathly afraid of crying. Draco Malfoy did not cry, especially not in front of other people. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he said, starting with the truth, determined to stick with it as long as possible. “It’s the bloody curriculum, not you. And, y’know, the letter from my parents. Just a lot going on, but it’s not your fault. I know the offer of tea was kind and caring, and I overreacted.”

Severus studied him. “Is that all?”

Draco closed his eyes, unable to look at Severus as he continued. “The business with Potter. His mother. I’m still—adjusting, I suppose. But again, that’s my problem, not yours, and I’m sorry I yelled.”

“If it is your problem it is mine as well,” Severus replied, and Draco hated him for being so reasonable. “Your feelings aside, of course it is still affecting me. It brought back many memories I wished never to think on again. I did my best to explain it to you, but I did not think I did a good enough job at the time, and I can see that assumption was correct. Do you wish to talk about it?”

“No,” Draco said, only it was more of a croak, and it was obvious enough he was choking back tears. He cleared his throat. “No, it’s your business, it’s up to you.”

“Draco, I told you. Our business belongs to both of us,” Severus replied. “If—”

“Really?” Draco interrupted, eyes flying open, temper starting to rise. “If it’s my business too then why did I have to hear about it from Harry fucking Potter?”

Severus looked back calmly. “The story started long before you were born,” he said. “Sharing it with you before the war was over would only put you in danger, and when we won I saw no reason to burden you.”

Draco ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. First. It’s not a bloody burden, it’s part of who you are and it’s important to me. Second. I’d think it’s pretty obvious that you should tell your _boyfriend_ you’ve been carrying a torch for a _girl_ since you were what, eight? Nine? That you were still in love with her when you claim you loved me? And how about—” He took a deep, steadying breath. “Third. You told me about your life as a spy but you failed to leave out your motive behind _every single thing_ you did. Fourth, and I think last but I could be wrong. If you lied to me about something this big, how can I trust anything you’ve said? What if—” He cut himself off. “I’m done. Go.”

“No, continue,” Severus said, and while his voice was open and reasonable, his lips had thinned to a tight line and his jaw was clenched. “What if what, Draco?”

“What if you lied to me about everything?” Draco asked, deflated. “What if you don’t love me, you never did, all you wanted was a fuck and it got out of hand and you didn’t want to hurt me so you just went along with it?”

Severus’ eyes hardened into brittle chips of obsidian. Sharp and ready to shatter into a thousand pieces, each with the intent of cutting Draco open and burrowing beneath his skin where he could never reach them, leaving him broken, bloody and stinging for the rest of his life.

Draco was aware he had a tendency to get dramatic when he was upset.

Draco was also aware he was _really_ upset.

“Do you truly think I would do such a thing?” Severus asked coldly. “I have never once lied to you. I did not tell you what you did not need to know. I understand why you are upset, but don’t you _dare_ question my loyalty for you.”

Draco flushed. It hadn’t occurred to him what his questions would sound like. “I never thought you weren’t,” he said. “If anything, I thought the opposite, that you were so loyal you’d lie to make me happy. Which,” he continued with a shuddering breath, “you did by not telling me about Potter’s mother.”

“I am not kind by design,” Severus replied tightly. “Can you truly envision me putting so much effort into a ruse that, by its very definition, I would not care about?”

“You did during the war,” Draco said. He immediately regretted it; he knew better than most what Severus had gone through, how difficult it was to exist in that world, and he hadn’t done half of what Severus had. “Sev, wait—”

“No, you’re right,” Severus interrupted. “I am a fine actor and I spent half my life lying to nearly everyone. There was one I always trusted, one who I was always my true self towards. I did so knowing he understood the risk I put him in. I would _never_ put you in that situation.” He laughed darkly. “For Merlin’s sake, I wasn’t in love with Albus Dumbledore. On a good day I could tolerate him.”

“You were protecting me, I get it,” Draco said. “But what if you still think you’re protecting me? What if you’re too noble to let me down?”

“Draco Malfoy, you are an idiot,” Severus stated. “I protected you the same way I protected Harry Potter, and you do not see me declaring my love to him.” Draco smiled slightly. “I am aware it is not the same, but it is clear enough I am capable of being responsible for someone while hating him and making his life as difficult as I possibly can.”

Draco worried his lower lip. He had to admit it sounded reasonable. But… “Our first night together,” he said. “Our first proper night, June fourth. I asked how long you loved me and you said as long—”

“—as it takes to brew an Elixir of Kalpa, I remember,” Severus cut in. “One of my more poetic moments.”

Draco couldn’t help another small smile. “Yeah, that. If you loved me for so long, what about Potter’s mother? You said you loved her, and…” He met Severus’ eyes, searching. No longer obsidian but slow burning coals—calm, gentle and warm but ready to flare into an inferno at the slightest provocation. “I don’t understand,” Draco said honestly.

Severus sighed. “I know. I loved the witch Lily Evans when we were friends while she was alive. Between our falling out and her death my love for her changed to something desperate to cling to, a carrot I would never reach. Proof to myself that I was just as miserable and loathsome as everyone said. When she died it was like a veil lifted. All I could see was what could have been, what I had lost by being so petty and vindictive. Any romantic feelings were gone, replaced by an overwhelming need for Lily the person, not the Lily I held over my head. I could have been her friend, been with her as she grew up, gone to her wedding, seen her glow when she was pregnant—at the time, you must remember, I did not know what an insufferable brat her son would grow to be—and been one of the Secret-Keepers. I mourned the loss of my best and only friend, and I vowed to live the life I should have while she was alive.

“You, Draco…” Severus trailed off, examining Draco who was quite sure he could see everything and anything, that he was an open book and Severus was flipping through him, looking for the right page. It was an oddly comforting thought. “I cannot explain it better than Kalpa. Of course I loved you both at the same time but never in the same way. I will always love Lily and miss the friend I should have had, but that does not diminish the love I feel for you.”

Draco realized he had left out a step in their fights, the most important step. After the talk and before the makeup sex, right next to the resolution but not quite, Severus would take the confused jumble of thoughts that strangled Draco and sort them out in the most beautiful, eloquent way possible. He would make it seem so simple, but never in the condescending way he did in class.

Severus suddenly looked concerned. “Draco, what’s wrong? Was I unclear?”

Draco frowned. “No, not at all. Nothing’s wrong. What—?”

Severus moved off his chair and perched on the armrest of Draco’s, who looked up at him in confusion. Severus gently stroked his cheek.“You’re crying.”

Draco winced, blushing. Severus might be absolutely perfect, but Draco refused to be rid of the idea that he simply _did not cry_. Not by himself and _certainly_ not in front of anyone. His father was upset with him enough as it was, the last thing he needed was him finding out he was a crybaby. “Sorry,” he muttered, angrily wiping his tears away. “That was just—Sev, you’re amazing. I’m so sorry. For everything. For snapping and yelling and being passive-aggressive and not trusting you and whatever other immature, self-centered crap I pulled.” His words were having the opposite of their intended effect; he was crying harder, seeming more pathetic and childish. He opened his mouth to keep going, hoping that his Malfoy loquaciousness would step up and save him, but he was stopped by Severus cupping his face in both hands and kissing him. Draco sighed in relief. This was what he needed, of course it was. Severus made it so goddamned _obvious_.

“I love you,” Draco said, barely intelligible against his mouth.

Severus had the grace to pull away before speaking. “I love you, too. You need never worry, I will always love you.”

Draco curled against him as best he could, which mostly just meant leaning his head in his lap and resting a hand on his leg. Severus stroked his hair gently as they sat in silence.

Once he was absolutely certain there would be no more tears, Draco looked up, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Are we done talking?”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “I would think so.”

“In that case…” Draco trailed off, walking his fingers up Severus’ leg and coming to rest lightly on his groin. “I propose makeup sex. And since this was all my fault, it would be in your interest to agree.”

Severus smiled indulgently. “I do agree, but only under the stipulation that you are no more at fault for not understanding than I am for not explaining clearly.”

“Whatever it takes to get in your pants,” Draco replied with a smirk, sliding his hand up and working on the button. “We’re both horrible people and deserve nothing better than each other.”

“Mm,” Severus sighed, eyes closing. Draco had the button undone and his zip halfway down before his eyes shot open and he grabbed Draco’s hand, pulling him away. “Not in the library!”

Draco smiled wickedly. “Why not in the library? We’re alone. Nobody’s around to hear us. Just you and a very impatient me.”

“I do not need to give a list of reasons!” Severus replied indignantly. “Our quarters are not far, you can wait that long.”

“Shan’t,” Draco said. In lieu of his hand he leaned forward and pulled the zip the rest of the way down with his teeth.

Severus let out a shuddering sigh. “Stop it.”

Draco smirked up at him one last time before going to work. “Shan’t.”

**The end.**


End file.
